


Fruitless

by novocaine_sea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Angst, Blood, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Special Agent!Akaashi, Violence, chapter 15 is the alt ending!, lol not really, minor daisuga, minor iwaoi - Freeform, minor tsukkiyama, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7548556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novocaine_sea/pseuds/novocaine_sea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fruitless: failing to achieve the desired results; unproductive or useless.</p><p> <i>If a serial killer was standing right in front of you, would you know?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No. 12

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome all! I've been working on this for a while and I'm really proud of it so far so... yes. All I need you to do is throw all your prior knowledge of the FBI and the rankings out the window because I tried researching and it didn't go very well :) So this is my portrayal of an FBI.  
> Happy reading~!

Blood splatters across the tile as the final two gunshots go off.

The man looks down to marvel his art.

He always ends his killings by shooting the eyes out, even when the victim is long dead; he doesn’t like the lifeless eyes staring back at him. Although, he does believe that the eyes are the most beautiful feature of a person.

He reaches down, gloved hands twisting the head of his victim. He loves the sound of the bones cracking as he spins the head around 180 degrees. Just like an owl could. The bones cracking under his fingers are enough to get him off. He pries the bullets from the eye sockets before laying the body gently against the floor. He admires it once more before standing straight.

He carefully steps around the rapidly pooling blood and ducks out the same way he came: through the front door.

The only evidence that he had been there is the body on the floor and the open door, making his victim a display.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi Keiji is woken up that morning to the obnoxious ringing of his cell phone. He presses his face into the fabric of his pillow and his hand gropes around the nightstand for the phone. He pulls it from his charger and grumbles, “Akaashi Keiji.”

“Akaashi!” His rambunctious partner Terushima Yuuji bleats through the receiver. Akaashi has to physically pull the phone away from his ear.

“What is it Terushima-kun?” He sighs, rolling onto his back.

Gone was the characteristic excitement from the voice and instead is replaced with a rare serious tone, “The Owl struck again.”

Akaashi shoots up, making him dizzy. His hand is shaking in anger around the phone. “Fuck alright I’ll be there soon. Text me the details.”

“You got it!” The line goes dead and Akaashi is left with the silence of his bedroom. He knows he has to get up but his blood feels like lead, weighing him down.

The Owl. That’s what they call the serial killer wrecking havoc in all of Tokyo. It’s mostly because he always kills during night and always leaves two giant holes in the head of his victims where the eyes belong. Not to mention the way he always spun the neck around so the victims face is parallel with their backside. Neither the FBI nor the police have any leads. There is no pattern to the killings, except for the fact that they all have the method in common, and they expand the entirety of the city. The Owl is erratic and is driving the FBI and policemen into the ground.

Akaashi jumps into the shower, letting the scalding hot water cascade over him. He quickly washes himself and his hair before getting out and drying off. He pulls on one of his suits, tying the tie neatly around his neck. He makes sure to make a cup of coffee and drinks it quick before grabbing his keys and cell phone, leaving the apartment.

He gets into his car, one provided by the FBI itself, and pulls up the information that Terushima had sent him. He plugs the address into the GPS and makes it there in about five minutes. It makes the man sick how close the apartment complex where the most recent killing had occurred is to his own. Akaashi swallows as he parks and shuts the car off. Anybody can be next. Even him.

Akaashi walks into the building and climbs the stairs. Terushima is waiting for him outside the apartment where he can assume the murder had happened, judging by all the officials there. Terushima perks up and trots over to him like a happy puppy, “Good morning partner.”

Akaashi nods, “Terushima-kun.” The two flash their badges at Officer Kyoutani Kentarou standing guard silently at the door before ducking under the caution tape.

Akaashi has been an agent for almost five years now but he will never be prepared for what he sees on crime sites sometimes

There’s fresh blood everywhere. It’s soaked into the couch, splashed across the refrigerator and dried on the tile of the kitchen floor. The victim had really put up a fight as the blood ranged for almost the entirety of the small apartment. A kitchen knife lays a ways away from the body, seemingly untouched.

Akaashi notices a familiar faux-blonde head crouched over the body and walks over to the small man. “Kenma-kun.” He says politely.

Kozume Kenma whips his head around and stiffens, staring up at Akaashi. His bright yellow eyes stare at him unwavering for a moment before he relaxes and nodded to him in greeting.

Akaashi lets his eyes glance down at the body before back to Kenma’s face. “Is it the same deal as last time?”

Kenma hesitates before speaking, “It _is_ the Owl but… there’s still nothing connecting all the others. The man here is around twenty or twenty-one. We found his wallet in his bedroom and Kuroo said he’ll be doing a background check in the station when we’re all done here. Eyes are shot out and the head is twisted around. That’s about as much as we have right now.”

“No leads?” Akaashi presses.

Kenma shakes his head, “No leads.” He watches as his team lifts the body into a body bag, getting ready to transfer him to the lab. Kenma is the head of his forensic pathologist in their building, as well as the elected coroner for on-site jobs. He always enjoys finding evidence in a body to solve a case. It gives him the same spark in his eye that he has when he played a really intense video game.

“Time of death?” Akaashi asks after a moment.

Kenma squirms in his spot, “Between two and three this morning.”

“What number is this now?”

“This one makes twelve.” Kenma says quietly.

Akaashi sighs and nods after composing himself mentally, “Alright thank you Kenma-kun. Please let us know if you find anything suspicious with the body.” Kenma nods and goes to find Kuroo, whom he had ridden there with. It’s no surprise that they came together really – they have been dating for close to three years now and live together.

Akaashi walks back into the living room gritting his teeth. Twelve murders. This is the twelfth murder in three months. The only thing the team knows is that it was done by the same person. Otherwise, there are no other clues or patterns or leads. They’ve been at a dead end since the start and it’s extremely frustrating.

A dozen murders are enough to break Akaashi down. How many more innocent people have to die before they get this guy? The whole city is seemingly blaming the police department and the FBI for the whole ordeal. In some ways it is their fault. The people they interview are pointless. They can’t find anything. None of the victims are linked in any way, nobody has any bad blood. They were all completely _innocent_. Which is what made the entire case that much more stressful.

“This guy is seriously giving us a run for our money.” Terushima hums, suddenly beside him.

Akaashi scrubs a hand over his face before looking around. The crime scene photographer is snapping pictures of all the blood that had dried on the wooden panels of the floor and soaked into the cushions of the couch. It’s disturbing how much blood there is and Akaashi wonders how that all fits in the human body. “We can’t keep going on like this.”

Terushima runs his hand through his dyed blonde hair. Sometimes Akaashi believes that he dyed his hair after seeing Kenma’s own dyed hair. Terushima is slightly jealous of the cat-like man but will never admit it. “Chief Iwaizumi is getting restless.”

“We’re _all_ getting restless,” Akaashi points out, “This is number twelve. Two and a half weeks ago were ten and eleven. The numbers are going to keep growing if we can’t find a suspect that is linked to at least three of the victims.”

Terushima groans, “I know, I know. Just… fuck this is terrible.” He looks around with big brown eyes. It seems he shares the same feelings Akaashi does about the killings taking place.

Akaashi pats him on the back, “It’s all part of the job Terushima-kun.”

Terushima looks as if he were going to let out a whine, “Why is it always us who get called in for Owl murders?”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, “Because the four other teams are all working on other cases. And we’ve been assigned to this one. They’re all helping out though.”

“Shouldn’t this type of case take precedent over other ones?” Terushima pouts as the two walked out of the caution-taped apartment.

Akaashi shrugs, “It’s none of my business how the Chief assigns jobs. How quick do you think Kuroo-san will have that file made up?”

Terushima grins, “If we’re talking about Sergeant Kuroo here the file should already be placed on your desk back at the station.”

Akaashi nods, “Good. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

 

Over the course of the week they bring in some suspects. All are dead ends of course, having alibis that check out. It’s extremely frustrating and as Akaashi walks down the hallway to the interrogation room his last suspect is in, he knew they won’t get anywhere. The situation is predictable, one they’ve been through over thirty time with the case of the Owl killings.

He slips into the room silently and takes his seat next to their lead interrogator.

Sugawara Koushi is called “Mr. Refreshing” for a reason. He always has a kind smile on his face that he flashes the suspects and criminals when interviewing them. And somehow as they always stare at the nothing but friendly face they would confess. They would confess to the crimes they’ve committed and even give up names sometimes if they were feeling a little daring.

Sugawara is a dangerous man but for all the right reasons.

Sugawara gives Akaashi a signature smile before letting his gaze drag back to the suspect at hand. The suspect is a female, the girlfriend of the most recent victim. It had taken a while for the team to track her down, which was only slightly suspicious.

“Could you tell me where you were the night of Obata-san’s murder?” Sugawara’s voice is light and airy as he folds his hands together in front of him. Akaashi is simply there to watch and take notes, then give those notes to either Konoha or Asahi for further investigating. He can asks questions that Sugawara doesn’t cover but he almost always keeps his mouth shut. Sugawara knows what he’s doing. After that it would be back to square one, looking for clues that linked all the murders together. He would work closely with the analytics department and they would all find nothing.

It’s a daily routine that Akaashi is getting tired of.

Nakatomi Miyuki swallows visibly and her lip wobbles, “I was at h-home all night sir.”

Sugawara nods and smiles, “It’s alright you don’t have to be nervous, Nakatomi-san. We understand this must be hard for you.” He looks down at the file in front of him, “Were you at home between the hours of two and three in the morning?”

Miyuki nods, “Y-Yes. I was asleep at th-that time.”

“Do you have anybody who could vouch for you or confirm that you were asleep?” Sugawara presses.

“I live with my parents and… and my mother is a pretty light sleeper so she would’ve heard if I went out.” Miyuki explains quietly. Akaashi scribbles in his notebook suppressing a sigh. This is leading them nowhere.

“Alright then you Nakatomi-san. We’ve interviewed a few of Obata-san’s coworkers and they didn’t have anything substantial we could use. Do you know of anybody who would want your boyfriend dead? Anybody who was threatening him?” Sugawara’s eyes never leave the young woman’s face and she squirms under the intense gaze.

“I…” Her gaze flicks off to the side. Akaashi hurriedly writes that down. _She’s hiding something_. “Hideki didn’t have any enemies. He was kind. He was just starting work so he couldn’t have made any enemies there. I just don’t understand how somebody could do this to him.” She lets out a sob and covers her mouth.

Sugawara pushes a box of tissues across the table towards her. She takes it gratefully. “We’re going to continue to look into this case, Nakatomi-san.”

“How much longer is this going to go on?” Miyuki asks, looking at both men before her. Akaashi and Sugawara share a look.

“What are you referring to Nakatomi-san?” Akaashi voice is soft. Her gaze rests on him and she shakes her head, suddenly feeling brave.

“You’ve let this monster run amuck in Tokyo for months. Now my boyfriend is dead because of you guys. If I remember correctly this is murder number twelve.”

Sugawara shifts in his seat, “I assure you that this will be over soon. We will catch this man and Obata-san will be given justice. There’s not much more I can say but I promise you we are working very hard to-“

“This has been going on for months. You guys need to do your job correctly.” She stares at her trembling hands, “May I go now?”

Sugawara opens his mouth and then closes it, looking at Akaashi. Akaashi gives him a somber look and a slight nod. Sugawara’s smile was soft as he stood up, opening the door, “Thank you for your cooperation Nakatomi-san.” The young woman speeds past him and down the hall. The door clicks shut behind Sugawara.

“Fuck.” Akaashi mumbles, tossing the pen onto the table.

Sugawara pinches the bridge of his nose, “She’s right you know. We’ve been letting this go for far too long.”

“You think we all don’t know that?” Akaashi’s voice is rough as he stood, collecting his notebook and pen off the table. “Three months. No leads. This Owl is immaculate, not leaving any clues. His victims are all completely random! It’s fucked up. It really is.” A sigh escapes Akaashi’s lips as he and Sugawara exit the room.

“We need to approach things differently then,” Sugawara explains. Sawamura Daichi joins them in the hallway, earning a respectful nod from both. Although he and Sugawara are in a romantic relationship, they keep their work and personal lives completely separate, acting just as comrades while working.

“How do you suggest we do that, Sugawara-san?” Akaashi asks with a sour bite.

Sugawara sighed, “I don’t know. I really don’t know Akaashi but we need to put more people on the scene. Get people out there. Look for something.”

Daichi scoffs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Tell that to Kuroo. The man’s a brick wall when it comes to making decisions that go against what the original plan was.”

“Well Kuroo needs to get his head out of his ass and start doing things differently!” Sugawara exclaims. Daichi places a hand on the small of his back discreetly and the gray haired man exhales loudly, “I’m sorry Akaashi.”

Akaashi holds his hands up, “It’s fine. I’m just as frustrated as you are.” He holds his notebook out to Daichi, “Could you give these to Asahi if you two aren’t working on something? If you are it goes to Konoha. I need to go speak to Tsukishima-san or Yamaguchi-san in analytics.”

Daichi nods, “Of course.”

Akaashi departs from them and takes his time walking to the analytics room. Yamaguchi Tadashi and Tsukishima Kei sit staring blankly at their computers across from each other. “Anything?” Akaashi asks as he pokes his head in.

Yamaguchi squeaks in surprise, not having expected anybody. The room had been silent before Akaashi entered. Tsukishima glances over his shoulder through thick black frames, a bored expression on his face, “Nothing. Last guy was forty-seven and this guy was twenty-two. The ages are all over the place. The apartments or houses are never anywhere near each other. This is mess.”

Akaashi wants to kick something. _Hard_. “Alright. Let us know if you find anything.” Tsukishima nods and turns back to his computer. Akaashi makes a mental note that Tsukishima is playing _Solitaire_ instead of working at the moment and closes the door.

Being a special agent is hard sometimes. He both hates and loves his job. There’s no better feeling than finally cracking a case. It gives him a rush of adrenaline and happiness he hadn’t felt since the last cracked case.

Akaashi knows though that this case is far from being solved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://aizawa-shoutas.tumblr.com/)


	2. Nos. 13, 14, 15 & 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case takes a turn for the worse and Akaashi gets cat called

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... love Bokuto so much. Also Lev and Yaku are in this chapter and they're my fucking favs... p much everybody is in this chapter and I cry because it's so much and yeah. Also I told y'all there would be longer chapters and here it is!
> 
> I'm going to do updates every Wednesday. That sounds good.

“They seemed like good kids.” The man hums, staring at the two mangled children on the ground. He had already shot their eyes out, matter splattering everywhere. Their heads are turned 180 degrees just like all his victims. The blood travels into the cracks of the wood.

The man flicks his eyes towards the woman sitting on the couch, staring in revulsion at the bodies around her. She is the last one left. The man has specifically left her for last, saying something about how beautiful it would be to watch her kids and husband die before her.

Heavy footsteps fall as they carefully step around the bodies. The woman crawls to the corner of the catch. “Don’t be scared,” The man smiles sweetly at her, “I promise that this will be over soon.” And, it is. The flick of a wrist later and her blood joins the three others’. She falls with a thump to the ground, convulsing.

The man shoots her eyes out.

The convulsing stops.

He removes all the bullets, placing them neatly into a plastic bag he had stored into his pocket. Then he walks out of the house the way he had come in: through the front door.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks pass between the twelfth murder and the thirteenth. Akaashi is woken up with another call about another murder. Or murder _s_ because Terushima states there are _four_ bodies on site, taking the body count from twelve to sixteen.

“Where’s Kozume-san?” Akaashi asks as he walks up to the scene pulling on rubber gloves. Oikawa Tooru, Kenma’s right hand man in the lab, is standing in front of him. Terushima has already walked onto the crime scene to investigate, twirling his tongue ring between his teeth.

Oikawa straightens and a playful smile splays onto his face, “Are you not happy to see me Keiji-kun?” Akaashi’s silence and blank stare make him hurriedly continue, “He, uh, kind of passed out when he saw the crime scene. But don’t worry! Tetsu-chan is taking care of him.” Oikawa winks at him.

Akaashi’s eyebrows shoot up, “What’s so bad about this crime scene that Kozume-san fainted?” Kenma is normally professional, never letting something like this affect him. He can handle his blood.

Oikawa’s eyes flick nervously to the ground, “Well, hm… There are bodies of two children just… completely mutilated. It’s a mess, Keiji-kun.”

Akaashi’s mouth falls open. He feels queasy and puts a hand on the wall to steady himself. _Children_? This is the first time the Owl has murdered children. Akaashi runs his free hand through his hair as he feels himself visibly pale. “Fuck.” He muttered.

Oikawa nods, “We’ve determined that the two children were both under nine years of age.”

Akaashi bites back a sob. Two children are dead because of this monster. Two children had their lives ripped right out from under them before they could even really start. Akaashi is pissed. He is nauseous. He is tired of how long this case has gone on now. They were nearing four months. Four months and they still have no leads and nobody to trace these murders to. _Sixteen murders_ and no leads.

“So are Terushima-kun and I the only professionals here right now?” Akaashi asks slowly. If Kuroo is taking care of Kenma he had most certainly either taken him home or straight to the hospital.

“You’re the only FBI agents here, if that’s what you’re asking.” Oikawa responds simply.

“Are the police here…?” Akaashi presses, clearly impatient.

Oikawa nods rapidly, “Yes um. Officer Yahaba is in the living room… assessing.”

Akaashi nods his head in a silent ‘thank you’ and heads in the directions of the living room. It is a blood bath in the house and it is hard to avoid stepping in the blood that is still drying. The murder had occurred mere hours ago if the blood was still drying.

“Yahaba-san,” Akaashi bows politely at the light haired man.

Yahaba Shigeru tenses, “Agent Akaashi.”

“Terushima-kun and I can handle it from here if you would…” His eyes motion towards the door.

Yahaba’s jaw sets. He looks as if he’s going to argue but doesn’t. Instead, he slowly begins to speak, “You took your time getting here so you didn’t hear that the murders occurred between two and three in the morning as-“

“As they always do,” Akaashi finishes for him, pulling out a black-light flashlight, shining it through the cracks of the wood. There really is blood everywhere. It’s stained into the cushions of the couch. It’s splattered against the gray of the TV. It’s painted across the wall, draining into the curtains. It’s hard to avoid. There are chunks of flesh lying across the floor. Akaashi swallows hard.

“You may be an FBI agent but you guys haven’t done a thing,” Yahaba says thickly.

Akaashi looks at him with a bored expression, “Yahaba-san you should know that we are doing everything we can to fix things and find the one responsible. Your only job here is to make sure reporters don’t get a hold of false information and do not slander our name.”

Yahaba appears livid, “My _only_ job? My job is to protect the citizens of this city and to bring you suspects because you can’t do your fucking job. _You_ and your friends in your _department_ are making that really tough when you aren’t making any headway in this case. These are four more names that asshole gets to add to his list. Are there going to be anymore?”

“Yeah, there probably will,” Terushima speaks up from behind Akaashi. He had surveyed the whole house. The living room is the only spot where the killings had occurred. “But we’re doing everything we fucking can to make sure that won’t happen. We don’t need you guys blaming us for these killings. Now if you would please,” Terushima points to the door, “go outside and make sure the fucking press don’t catch any of this as Agent Akaashi had told you to.”

Yahaba’s face heats up and he storms from the scene, pushing his way outside.

Terushima turns towards Akaashi, “You okay?”

Akaashi sighs, “I’m fine; you didn’t need to do that Terushima-kun.”

Terushima grins, “I’m not just gonna stand here while some fucker from the police department accuses my partner of things that aren’t his fault! You’re one of the best agents we got Akaashi and I’ll defend that to my grave.”

Akaashi nods, “Thank you Terushima-kun.”

The grin never leaves Terushima’s face but only grows wider, even as he recounts the details of the murders, “I just can’t believe he killed children. You must be really fucked in the head to do that.”

Akaashi lets loose a little air from his lungs, “You’re telling me…”

“At least he’s not raping them,” Terushima says. He catches the bottom of his tongue ring between his teeth and tugs lightly before letting go.

“Please don’t.” Akaashi whispers, closing his eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. Not with the bodies of _children_ lying in front of them, necks snapped around inhumanly and eyes gone, sprayed all over the floor.

Terushima clicks the metal against his teeth, “Ah sorry. But you gotta take that into account right?”

Akaashi sighs and scratches the top of his head, “I guess.” He looks up at his partner, hazel eyes meeting brown ones, “Can you get some files made up? Maybe ask for the help of Yahaba-san since he clearly wants to help and thinks we aren’t doing shit. I need… air.”

Terushima perks up and he places his hand on his forehead in a salute, “You got it partner! I’ll let the police assist.” He bounds off like a dog.

Akaashi exhales and places a hand on his forehead, watching as the bodies are placed in bags and are hauled out of the house. He can already hear the pops of cameras going off, the reporters getting their pictures. He gives Oikawa a nod as he walks off, getting into his car and driving off.

He needs coffee. He would preferably like a shot, or four, but he refrains. Coffee would suffice for now. He parks his car down the street from the coffee shop and gets out. The streets are mostly barren, people already on the train heading to work by now. With his line of work he’s always on crime scenes between seven or eight in the morning. If he isn’t on site then he has to be at the office by nine to fill out paperwork or watch interrogations.

Akaashi is grateful that most people are heading to work because he doesn’t want to see a single person right now. He just wants a coffee and to sit in his car for a while.

Unfortunately, things don’t go his way.

A whistle sounds above him and encases him. He tenses and straightens. “Damn baby! You look good in a suit!” A howl follows and Akaashi dares to glance at where he thinks the voice is coming from. It comes from the construction site to his left. A man with spiked burgundy hair is smirking down at him confidently. He winks at Akaashi through his safety goggles.

Another worker, who also had spiked hair but is colored both black and gray, is gaping at him in shock. His eyes flick nervously to Akaashi and Akaashi can only make out muffled sounds as he moves past the building under construction. “Aw c’mon baby don’t be like that!” Another whistle follows. “That ass looks great from up here! Shake it a little!”

Akaashi grits his teeth and feels his face heat up as he moves out of range from them. He walks into the coffee shop and up to the counter, ordering a plain black coffee. He waits as it’s being made, fingers twitching at his sides.

He’s been sexually harassed before. Men telling him he has a pretty face, nice lips that they would love to wrap around a certain part of their body, and an ass that they would love to sink all the way in to. He ignores it but it still embarrasses him. Embarrasses him isn’t the right word. It infuriates him.

He grabs his coffee off the counter and hesitates. If he wants to enjoy it in his car he would have to walk past the construction workers again. He opts to sit at a table in the corner of the store to finish his coffee in peace, pulling his phone out to read through some emails.

That’s when the construction work with the silver and black hair bursts in. He frantically searches around for Akaashi before making a beeline for him. “Hey, I’m really sorry about that!”

Akaashi looks up at him and the man actually takes a step back. Akaashi’s face is neutral as he shrugs, “It’s okay.”

The man with the colorful hair looks puzzled, “Tendou’s a dick; he’ll hit on anything that moves. I’m just really sorry he said all those things to you!”

Akaashi holds up a hand to stop him, “I said it was okay. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

The man furrows his eyebrows, mouth still open, “That doesn’t make it okay!”

Akaashi sighs, “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

The man runs his thick hand through his spiked hair. Akaashi watches him over the rim of his coffee cup. He’s buff, arms stretching the material of his shirt. The denim of his jeans is begging to burst with how muscular those thighs are. Akaashi holds the hot liquid in his mouth for a moment, distracted with the man’s physique, and is reminded to swallow when it starts to burn.

“I wish I could’ve bought ya a coffee,” the man is saying. When Akaashi gives him a curious look he fumbles over his words, “Ya know because I feel bad that you had to be called at like that! That’s not fair. He does it to everybody it’s disgusting.”

“Do you offer to buy everybody he catcalls coffee?” Akaashi wonders.

The man’s lips purse, “Uh well no…”

“Then why are you here?”

“I just…” The man’s golden eyes cast aside, “I just wanted to apologize. I don’t… really have any other explanation.”

Akaashi sighs and smooths his tie down, “Well an apology doesn’t really mean much coming from you since you’re not the one who harassed me.” His tone is dry and the man looks stunned.

“Oh well I’m… sorry…” He glances down at his work boots and shoves his hands in his pockets, “You have a good day. I’m sorry for bothering you!” He smiles, showing off all his white teeth. Akaashi’s heart does a flip as he nod, watching the man leave the coffee shop. He leans back in the chair and slowly sips his coffee, looking out the window at the man’s back. Even from here he can see the muscles through his shirt.

Akaashi finishes his cup and tosses it in the trash before leaving the shop. When he passes the construction site, there are no catcalls or anything of the like. He looks up slightly but nobody is looking at him. Not even the man with the multicolored hair.

Disappointment washes over to him vaguely as he climbs in his car, driving back to the station.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi looks through the files for the nth time. He stares at the pictures of the children and their parents, suppressing the urge to vomit or cry. They were just children for Christ’s sake. He sighs and pushes them away, closing the manila flaps.

Terushima shoves his chair back to look at him, “Everything okay?”

Akaashi rubs at his face, “Not really. This is so fucked up. They were children. Five and six. They had barely lived.”

“It’s disgusting.” Daichi leans against Akaashi desk, looking over the duo and joining the conversation. He opens the top file on Akaashi’s desk and shakes his head, “We keep saying the same shit over and over again but we can’t _do_ anything when there’s nothing to go off of.”

Akaashi nods and threads his fingers through his hair, “You’re right. We shouldn’t have let things go this far.”

“It’s amazing though,” Terushima chimes in, “The guy leaves no finger prints, no particles of clothing, not even a hair! He’s so perfect. The only evidence that he was there is the absolute horror show that he leaves behind!”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, “Are you praising a serial killer?”

Daichi grimaces, “It’s unfair really. He’s making our lives so difficult.”

Akaashi lets out a sarcastic chuckle, “Is that not what criminals do?”

Terushima places his hands behind his head, “It is but this fucker is toying with us now. He’s been toying with us since he killed the second person. And now it’s sixteen.”

“The Chief is going to kill us if we let this slip past twenty,” Akaashi considers.

Daichi sighs, “Better find something, and fast. Have you talked to Kozume? Or Oikawa?”

Akaashi shakes his head, “Kozume-san is still at home. Oikawa is repulsive and I would rather not speak to him. I’ll wait until Kozume-san is back or you can do it.” He looks at Terushima.

Terushima howls with laughter, “Shit Akaashi the chief would lose his shit if you heard him call his husband repulsive.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows just how annoying Oikawa can be,” Daichi deadpans. Akaashi’s lips quip up in a smirk and Terushima’s laugh echoes through the large office. From a couple desks over Asahi gives them a nervous glance but doesn’t say a thing.

Suga struts into their office at that exact moment and gazes over the threesome, grinning, “Is it a party in here or have you guys finally gone crazy?” He walks over to him and his eyes glance down at the pictures. Daichi closes the folder.

“We went crazy a long time ago.” Daichi explains.

Akaashi sighs and looks up at the gray haired man, “How are you today, Sugawara-san?”

Suga smiles and shrugs, “I’m alright. Yahaba-san was very rude to me on the phone when he told me he was bringing in a potential suspect.”

Terushima huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, tapping his foot, “He was a real fuckin’ dick this morning if I do say so myself.”

“He’s on edge. Everybody is,” Akaashi looks at Suga coolly, “When are they bringing the suspect in?”

Suga stares at his watch, “Thirty minutes or so. It’s not going to go anywhere though. No ordinary citizen would murder a family of four like that. There were children…” He looks down and Daichi stands up, placing a hand on Suga’s shoulder.

Akaashi turns away from them, knocking his fingers on his desk, “I’m going to give these files to Tsukishima-san and Yamaguchi-san. Maybe they can find something.”

“They look at numbers,” Daichi reminds him.

“Yes they do. But I need to do something to wake Tsukishima-san up. He was playing pinball on his computer the last time I saw him,” Akaashi shakes his head and stands up.

Terushima barks out a laugh, “That dude literally doesn’t give a _fuck_ about his job.”

Suga laughs lightly, “That’s because he knows he won’t lose it. He’s an arrogant son of a bitch.”

Akaashi grabs the files, “Very true, Sugawara-san.” He makes a move to leave but Suga calls to him. He turns to meet big brown eyes, soft with hope.

“Drinks tonight?” Suga shoots him a thumbs up.

Terushima perks up, “Oh drinks?”

A smile plays at Akaashi’s lips, “Drinks sound great.” He disappears down the hall, Terushima’s chants of excitement following him the whole way.

 

* * *

 

They crowd a table at the bar, Terushima lifting the beer to his lips with a laugh. Suga, now that he’s outside the workplace, leans into Daichi and Daichi holds him securely. They’re joined by almost the rest of the special agents department: Azumane Asahi, Haiba Lev, and Yaku Morisuke. Konoha Akinori and Sarukui Yamato had opted out.

Akaashi looks around at his coworkers. Everybody’s tense but with each drink it slowly passes. It’s nice to hang out with people who understand the emotions he’s feeling in his chest. The anger sits in the pit of his stomach day in and day out and it will probably remain until they catch the ruthless murderer.

“Hey.” Suga knees him under the table. Akaashi blinks at him and tightens his fingers around his beer.

“Yes?” Akaashi shivers as Suga gives him a mischievous smile.

“I think you need to get laid,” Suga says simply. Akaashi almost chokes on his beer, along with Asahi beside him. Terushima barks out another laugh and nods.

“Yes, he really does!”

“You know, it really does help relieve stress,” Lev points out, “Yaku-san likes-“

Yaku slams the side of his hand under Lev’s ribcage, causing the taller man to cry out. Yaku lets out a pointed smile.

Terushima grins wickedly, “What does Yaku-san like Lev?”

Lev perks up, “Lots of things! He especially likes it when I li-“

“ _Lev_ ,” Yaku’s voice is so calm but the expression on his face is murderous. Akaashi feels the hairs stand up on the back of his neck just looking at him. Lev shrinks in his seat and gulps at his beer.

Akaashi shakes his head, “You all are disgusting…. Except Azumane-san.” He offers Asahi a kind smile and watches the tall man shrink in relief.

“What the hell did I do?!” Daichi asks. Suga pats his shoulder sympathetically.

Terushima knocks his beer into Akaashi’s with a _ding_. “You’re the most stressed out of all of us! You’re twenty-eight and you’ve already got lines on your forehead and bags under your eyes.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, “Are you saying I’m ugly?”

Terushima pouts, “I’m just saying you’re aging yourself!”

“Well you’re on the same case as me so you should be feeling the same ways I do.”

Daichi claps his hands together, “Now now let’s not fight…”

Suga taps his chin, “Akaashi, I bet if you asked Tsukishima would be willing to help you out. Or I think you could wipe that haughty expression on his face and make him go wild.”

Asahi sputters again, this time his drink spilling down his chin. Akaashi just leans his head bac waiting for Suga’s explanation. Daichi sighs and puts his head in his hands. Terushima is cackling again. Yaku hides his smile behind his beer. Lev just looks confused. “Wild how?” The Russian asks.

Daichi gapes at him through his fingers, “Lev no-“

Suga’s grins and slaps the table top, “I am _so_ glad you asked Lev! Akaashi’s really pretty and Tsukishima seems to have a stick up his ass so if Akaashi could just work his magic with that pretty face of him I bet Tsukishima would be _begging_ for more. Also, Tsukishima looks really skilled with his tongue, with all the crap he spews with it! I bet he could work that tongue all over Akaashi here.”

Asahi looks downright horrified. Akaashi feels how Asahi looks, “I am sitting right here you know.”

Suga shrugs and takes a swig of beer, “Would you hook up with Tsukishima?”

Akaashi stands up and states flatly, “No. I’m going to sit at the bar until you cool down.”

Terushima shouts out another laugh as Akaashi walks away, “Aw come on Akaashi it’s all in good fun!”Akaashi hears Asahi relaying that he thinks Tsukishima is with Yamaguchi but he isn’t paying attention. He just needs to get away from all of them.

Akaashi sighs and takes his drink with him to go sit at the bar. He loves his coworkers, he really does, but right now he wants to be anywhere but near them. He still needs a few more drinks before he can leave which is why he chooses to sit at the bar.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a muscular, silver and black flash bounding towards him, “Hey hey hey, you’re that guy from this morning!” He falls heavy into the stool beside Akaashi. Akaashi looks him over. It’s the construction worker from that morning, the one who had apologized on behalf of his coworker for catcalling him.

Akaashi simply nods and nurses his drink. The man begins talking again, “I’m still really sorry about before. Tendou really can be a dick and he really does call at everyone like that… Not that that’s a good thing because it’s not! Um…” The man seems unsure of what to do so he sticks his hand out to Akaashi, “I’m Bokuto Koutarou!”

Akaashi stares at the hand extended to him before slowly shaking it, “Akaashi Keiji.” He almost doesn’t let go. Bokuto’s hands are so rough and warm and he feels secure holding it. He returns his hand to his side, heart racing. What was wrong with him?

Bokuto’s face breaks into a grin, “Wow that’s a nice name!”

Akaashi blushes and turns so he’s facing the bar, “Oh, um, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” He can hear the smile in the man’s voice, “Um, can I ask you something?”

“S-Sure…” Akaashi mumbles into his beer glass.

Bokuto fidgets next to him, “Do you know why there’s a group of people staring at us?”

Akaashi’s eyes widen and he spins around to look at his coworkers. Suga smiles sweetly at him and gives him an encouraging thumbs up. He watches Daichi and Asahi hides their stares into their beer. Lev is watching him with interest as Yaku’s gaze is blocked by the taller man. Lastly, Terushima wiggles his eyes at him. Akaashi shot them all a glare and shook his head ever so slightly before turning back to Bokuto, “I’m sorry those are some of my coworkers. We all came together to de-stress but they ended up pissing me off so now I’m here.”

“Oh,” Bokuto gives them a wary look before focusing his golden eyes back on Akaashi, “Well I’m glad they pissed you off… I mean, that’s not a good thing but uh, now I get to talk to you! I meant to get your name early but uh…” He chews his lip nervously.

Akaashi sighs, recalling the morning, “I’m sorry if I was rude to you this morning. Work is stressful and then your friend was harassing me and… There’s no excuse, you were just being kind and I responded impolitely. Thank you for apologizing for him.”

Bokuto smiles softly, “Of course! If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your job that you’re so stressed?”

Akaashi weighs his options. He could lie or he could tell the truth. He decides on for the latter, pulling out his badge and opening it, holding it up where Bokuto can see. Bokuto reads it and his eyes go wide, “Wow that’s heavy.”

Akaashi chuckles and tucks it back in his pocket, “What do you mean?”

Bokuto smiles, “Well that’s a really tough job! You have to know how to hold a gun and shoot one and you get to chase after the bad guys! And you know I only thought attractive FBI agents existed in movies. Like… you’re so attractive it’s kind of unreal.”

Akaashi’s lips stutter open, a response dying on his tongue. His face flushes and he finishes his beer in lieu of an answer. “Do you always talk like this with people you just met?”

Bokuto laughs lightly. It’s honestly one of the best sounds Akaashi has ever heard. “No. But normally I don’t start talking to somebody as attractive as you so…”

Akaashi coughs and really needs another drink. He must’ve made it obvious because Bokuto orders him another one. Akaashi starts to protest but Bokuto is insistent that he let him pay for the drink because _‘I wasn’t able to buy you a coffee_. _’_ After that he takes the beer gratefully.

This is his third one, having needed a second one immediately if he was going to deal with Terushima _and_ Suga after hours. Suga looks innocent but clearly is not, especially with alcohol in him. Akaashi’s starting to feel the effects of the alcohol when he met Bokuto’s eyes. There’s something about those eyes that draw Akaashi in. They’re gold but if he looked close enough he could see little flecks of green embedded in the gold. They’re beautiful and warm and Akaashi wants to melt into them.

Conversation flows naturally between the two. Akaashi’s tongue loosens because of the alcohol and he finds himself laughing at all the dumb puns Bokuto makes. His eyes wander over the taught muscles threatening to burst through his shirt. Akaashi has never seen somebody so muscular. Chief Iwaizumi is a close second, followed by Kuroo. He wants to run his fingers over every inch of Bokuto’s skin.

Akaashi’s cheeks burn at the thought. The alcohol is definitely affecting him.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Bokuto asks. He had insinuated a game of twenty questions. Akaashi had scrunched his nose up originally but Bokuto was extremely convincing with that pout of his.

Akaashi thinks before clicking his tongue, “Probably red pandas. They’re just so… cute.” He says for lack of a better word.

“Yeah they’re so cool!” Bokuto agrees, nodding vehemently, “Their tails are really sweet, how they’re striped and stuff! There’s this really funny video of them getting scared too! It’s adorable… even though they were scared! I’ll show it to ya some time!” He’s laughing at the thought of the video and Akaashi snickers, hiding it behind his hand. He hates his laugh which is why he makes an effort to hide it whenever it makes an appearance.

“I’ll take you up on that. What about you?” Akaashi asks, watching the smile leave Bokuto’s face.

“Oh well um,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “with…everything going on I don’t want it to look suspicious.”

Akaashi’s eyebrows shoot up, “What do you mean everything going on?”

Bokuto bites his bottom lip, “Well you know… I love owls. They’re so majestic and with you know all the murders and that guy being called ‘the Owl’ I just didn’t want it to make me look weird. And, uh, I didn’t want to bring up the murders in case it’s a sore subject and stuff since you’re an FBI agent and all…”

Akaashi can’t help but laugh. He can feel the surprised stares from his coworkers and Bokuto. It’s rare that he laughs, especially that loudly. Akaashi clamps his hand over his mouth and shakes his head, the smile bleeding through. “Bokuto-san, it’s not a crime to like owls. It is awful how somebody so sick is tarnishing such a beautiful creature. But just because you love owls doesn’t mean you’d be a suspect.”

Relief washes over Bokuto, “Oh okay. Thanks Akaashi! I especially love the Great Horned owl but they only live in America so…” Akaashi smiles and looks at him fondly as Bokuto rants about different species of owl.

Bokuto looks his phone after a bit of time had gone by, “Shit, I’m sorry but um I kind of forgot that my friend wanted me to stop by tonight. He gets kind of lonely and I go over to hang out with him some nights.”

Akaashi straightens and fiddles with his tie, “That’s alright. I’m sorry for keeping you.”

Bokuto’s head snaps up to look at him, “No no! Don’t feel bad! It was really awesome talking to you!! Do you think that I could get your number? Maybe? Possibly?”

Akaashi is already pulling out his phone, “I would like that a lot actually.”

Bokuto pushes his phone into Akaashi’s fingers, “Great! Just um, yeah…” They exchange numbers and Bokuto looks at his phone in awe, “Do you um, maybe wanna get coffee tomorrow morning? The same place you got coffee today?”

Akaashi smiles softly, “I would like that a lot Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto’s entire body lights up, “Awesome! I’ll see you tomorrow Akaashi!” He gives him a little wave before bouncing out of the bar.

Akaashi has a stupid grin on his face. He curses the alcohol in his system before walking back over to his coworkers, who are all going to look horrible for work tomorrow. Suga is half hanging on Daichi, Terushima is passed out on the table with his hand loosely gripping his glass, Yaku and Lev are bickering, per usual, and Asahi just looks tired. Akaashi joins them in the seat he had originally been sitting in.

Daichi eyes him but decides not to say anything, knowing his drunk boyfriend would say something for him. Suga clicks his tongue, “I told you to get _laid_ Akaashi.” His words are slurred slightly.

Akaashi chuckles and shakes his head, “I’m not a one and done kind of person.”

Suga pouts slightly and looks at Daichi, “You know, Daichi said that we would only have a little fling when we first met. We fucked in the bathroom at the office the first time and he said that we couldn’t do it again. But here we are, three years later, still fucking!”

Daichi looks appalled and flustered, “Alright I think it’s time we go.” He hauls Suga out of the chair, the gray haired man giggling the whole time, the goofy smile never leaving his face. He can barely walk. They say their goodbyes, Asahi scampering out with them. Yaku and Lev leave together, Akaashi eyeing them suspiciously.

He’s left with Terushima, who is mumbling in his drunken slumber. Akaashi hooks his arm over his shoulder and leads him through the bar and to the outdoors after calling a cab. He knows where Terushima lives and tells the cabbie the information before watching him take off. Akaashi runs his fingers through his wavy locks, considering taking his car. He is way too tipsy to drive but doesn’t like the idea of leaving his car there.

In the end he walks home, the bar being only a few blocks away from his apartment. He can just come get his car in the morning and drive to the coffee shop. Remembering that he has a date in the morning makes Akaashi smile. He doesn’t go on dates, especially not after his last disaster of a relationship. Every day he curses himself for previously being in a relationship with a man who was ten years older than him. He knew he would be pushed aside but didn’t think it would hurt as much as it did.

Akaashi shoves his hands in his pockets to warm them up as he walks. That was all in the past. He was finally opening up his heart again and he needed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who've read up until this point! Comments and kudos always appreciated!


	3. Standstills and Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I currently have through chapter _nine_ written for this can you believe it?! I think I'm gonna cap it at fourteen chapters but that's tentative so don't hold me to it. But if I do say so myself, it gets good ;)  
>  This chapter is mostly dialogue also so oops...  
> This chapter is short and sweet. Have a lovely Wednesday, see you in a week!!!  
> [Tumblr](http://aizawa-shoutas.tumblr.com/)  
> Comments and Kudos always welcome and appreciated!

The man sits on the couch, lights off, TV on. The pictures move and he watches without really seeing.

 _Not tonight_ , the words echo through his head, so loud he thinks there’s somebody in his apartment, _maybe tomorrow_.

 

* * *

 

Almost three weeks pass since the family of four was murdered. Bokuto and Akaashi meet for coffee every morning, sitting in the same booth in the same coffee shop. It’s mostly Bokuto who talks about nothing in particular with excitement in his eyes and his voice, Akaashi listening intently and nodding when reasonable.

Akaashi watches the muscles of Bokuto’s neck contract as he swallows. “Akaashi?” His name on Bokuto’s lips is enough to pull him from his thoughts.

“Yes Bokuto-san?” Akaashi shifts in his seat, eyeing the man curiously.

Bokuto stares back, gaze never wavering, “Can I ask you something? It’s about something you said when we first met…”

Akaashi narrows his eyes in interest. He finds it endearing how Bokuto always asks permission before asking him a question, as if the older man felt like he was burdening Akaashi with his questions. “Of course Bokuto-san. You can ask me anything you’d like.”

Bokuto grins, “Well when you got catcalled you mentioned how it’s happened before. Is that really true?”

Akaashi nods slightly. It’s not something he likes to think about, “Yes. It happened a lot in college. College boys are disgusting and…” He bites his lip softly, recalling memories that he had suppressed since college.

Bokuto senses that it’s a sensitive topic for the man and reaches over, covering Akaashi’s hand with his own. Akaashi stills and meets Bokuto’s eyes, which are gentle, “You don’t have to talk about it. I’m sorry I asked.”

Akaashi shakes his head, “It’s fine, it’s all the in the past. I can protect myself now.” He taps his finger on the badge in his pocket.

Bokuto nods in agreement, “Is that why you joined the FBI?”

Akaashi shrugs, “Partially. I don’t really have a specific reason it just kind of… happened.” Bokuto drinks it all in. They sit for some time, Bokuto’s large hand covering Akaashi’s thin one and they sip their coffee. The silence is comfortable and Akaashi is appreciative of it. Hopefully someday he would be able to tell Bokuto the full story. He doesn’t want to tell it in a full coffee shop.

Bokuto’s hand leaves his as he stands to throw away the coffee cup. Akaashi places both of his hands around his cup, feeling the warmth through the thick paper. Bokuto’s hand is warmer than the cup however and Akaashi yearns for his touch again.

“Do you think you could teach me how to shoot a gun sometime?” Bokuto asks as he sits down again.

Akaashi smirks, “I could take you to a shooting range if you’d like. I must warn you though, I am very skilled with a gun.”

A twinkle shines in Bokuto’s eyes, “Is that a challenge Akaashi?”

“It can be.”

Bokuto smiles and says after some time, “What time do you have to be at work?”

Akaashi looks down at his phone, “I have another thirty minutes. Are you still working down the street?”

Bokuto nods, “Yeah! We’re nowhere near done though. We have so much to do.”

Akaashi opens his mouth to ask what else he has to do, but he’s interrupted by a familiar “Ohoho?” He freezes and looks up at the figure now smirking above him. He would know that drawl and the messy bed head anywhere. Bokuto looks between the two men with interest as a smaller finger stands beside the taller man.

Akaashi nods politely, “Sergeant Kuroo.”

“Hello Akaashi.” Kuroo is still sporting the smirk as he turns to Bokuto, “Who’s this?”

Bokuto extends a hand and Kuroo takes it, shaking firmly, “Bokuto Koutarou. It’s nice to meet you Sergeant!” Bokuto flashes him a smile and Kuroo offers one back.

“Kuroo’s fine, I’m not at work yet. Akaashi you didn’t tell me you were seeing some one!” Kuroo looks hurt as he pouts slightly.

Akaashi suppresses an eye roll. Even though Kuroo is technically his boss, they’re friends above anything else, having played volleyball in high school together. Kenma tugs on Kuroo’s sleeve, “Leave them alone, Kuro.” He says quietly, eyes peering at Bokuto. He’s studying the man with his eyes. Bokuto shifts uncomfortably under the cat-like gaze.

“Um, we’re not really…” Akaashi stumbles over his words. What are they exactly? They get coffee with each other every day even when they don’t have work and text casually over the course of the day. But otherwise they don’t see each other.

Bokuto clears his throat, “We’re not really together. We’re just friends who get coffee, right Akaashi?”

Akaashi agrees, “Yes. Bokuto-san and I are… just friends.”

Kuroo cocks an eyebrow and grins widely, “Oh? If you say so. You kids have fun now.” He winks at them before walking over to stand in the line. Kenma mouths an “I’m sorry” to Akaashi before taking off after his partner.

Akaashi finally gets to roll his eyes, “I’m really sorry Bokuto-san. Kuroo-san can be… intrusive.”

Bokuto laughs, “It’s fine! He seems cool. Who was the guy with him?”

“That’s Kenma-kun, his boyfriend. I honestly don’t know how he stands Kuroo-san sometimes.” Akaashi shakes his head and smiles slightly.

“Did I offend you when I said we’re just friends?” Bokuto asks suddenly.

Akaashi sits stunned for a moment before sputtering, “N-No not at all. This is just casual coffee.” _It’s not like I look forward to it or anything_.

“Oh…” Bokuto taps his fingers on the table top, “Do you think you’d want to go on an actual date with me? I really like when we get coffee though don’t get me wrong! I was just thinking we could go out to dinner sometime or whatever you want to do!”

Akaashi smiles softly at him, “I would like that very much Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto’s whole body lights up with happiness, “Great! Um, I know this amazing~ yakiniku place if you’d wanna check it out?”

“That sounds good.”

“Awesome! Is Saturday good for you? I’m not really busy at night but I know you’re working on that case and such and I don’t know what time you get off every day…”

Akaashi huffs as he shifts in his seat, “Well we usually get off at six but sometimes I have to stay later to fill out paperwork and such. But Saturday sounds great, I don’t usually work then.”

“Great! Since we’re going Saturday, maybe we could do something before going to get yakiniku. Like, um, we could go mini golfing and get food after! We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Akaashi smiles. Bokuto’s childish personality always eases the mood. It’ll be nice to see Bokuto in his full element if they go mini golfing. “I think that I’d like to do anything as long as you’re with me.”

Bokuto’s face heats up and he blinks in surprise. Akaashi usually isn’t so forward. Then he laughs, “I’m glad Akaashi! You’re really awesome to be around so I think I feel the same way!”

“I’m very happy to hear that.” They stare at each other for a moment too long before Akaashi becomes uncomfortable, fumbling with his now empty coffee cup.

“Um, I think we should probably get going soon, ya know, because work starts soon and all.” Bokuto says and goes to stand. Akaashi stands with him and checks the time. He really does have to be at work soon.

“It was a pleasure seeing you Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says cordially as they walk out.

Bokuto brightens, “Yes, always! I’ll see you tomorrow Akaashi!” He waves as he begins to jog down the street. Akaashi watches him go, still amazed at the muscles of his thighs and arms under a heavy coat. Akaashi climbs into his car and drives away, already daydreaming about Saturday.

 

* * *

 

“Heard ya got a date this weekend?” Terushima wiggles his eyebrows at him as they eat their lunch.

Akaashi sighs and immediately pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s been a slow day filled with nothing but paperwork and dead ends and he just wants to curl up. He wants to hide under his desk and sleep. The last thing he wants right now is for Terushima to tease him. “Where did you hear that?”

Terushima tugs on his tongue ring, “The sergeant’s got a big mouth.”

“That he does…” Akaashi mumbles, stabbing at his salad. He doesn’t eat much usually, always either bringing a salad or fruit to keep him full until he’s home to make dinner. He’s not picky just enjoys simple, small things.

“We have to go to the elementary school after lunch by the way,” Terushima says through a mouthful of food.

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, “The elementary school? What for?”

Terushima slurps up some noodles, “Turns out we never talked to the older kids’ teachers. And instead of waiting for them to come to us we’re going to them. But of course…”

Akaashi waves him off, already knowing what he’s going to say. Teachers aren’t going to turn out to be murderers or give them anything that they would need to help them in the case. It’s frustrating as always as Akaashi looks over the files of each murder, examining the pictures and the written notes. It’s all the same grotesque view and he hates it.

Akaashi stands and throws out the rest of his salad, “Come on.”

Terushima gawks, “Excuse me, I’m not finished.”

Akaashi shrugs and grabs his coat, “Take it with you. If you spill any in my car you’re paying to have it cleaned.”

Terushima sighs and stands with him, pulling his coat on, “Fine I’ll be careful.” The two depart from the office, waving goodbye to Asahi who sits alone in the office. The others are off on some kind of drug bust mission with the police. Akaashi knows that along with the Owl they’ve been following an underground drug smuggling business which has yielded much more results than the Owl case. If most of the agents were on site right now it meant they were getting close.

The drive to the elementary school is short and Akaashi feels nostalgia as he parks. He remembers going to elementary school and enjoying some of the courses, not particularly talking to anybody. He had always been the quiet, more reserved child and other kids usually avoided him because of this. Akaashi never minded.

He made his first friend in junior high when he joined the volleyball club. There he met Kenma who was just as quiet as him. They played the same position and were both equally observant. They switched regularly because their skill level was virtually the same. The coaches always praised them.

In high school they were joined by Kuroo, who was loud and obnoxious ~~and still is~~. Kuroo made both their lives a living hell by teasing. Akaashi could see the interest in his friend’s eyes and finally after ten years had gotten them together. Kuroo’s constant whining and Kenma’s dancing around the subject really pissed off Akaashi at the time but he’s glad they’re happy now.

Akaashi feels dread settle in his stomach as he and his partner walk into the school. The woman at the front desk is immediately filled with terror as they flash their badges, stumbling over words and looking around frantically as she leads them to the correct classroom. She beckons the teacher out into the hall before dashing off.

Terushima smiles at the teacher who looks very concerned and nervous. “Good afternoon Michimiya Sensei. I’m Terushima Yuuji and this is my partner Agent Akaashi Keiji. Would you mind if we asked you a few questions about one of your, erm, former students?”

Michimiya Sensei’s eyes fill with tears immediately and she nods, “Y-Yes of course! It’s so awful what happened to Daisuke and his family! We’re all still hurting here.”

Terushima nods, “I can only imagine the pain going on here. Was there any indication that your student was being abused?”

Michimiya shakes her head rapidly, “No! His parents were very kind and he was very well behaved. I can’t imagine who would want to do this, especially to such an upstanding family.”

“Upstanding?” Akaashi asks.

Michimiya bites her lip, “They were one of the wealthier families, even though they kept it on the down low. They donated a large sum of money to our school this year for the arts program, it was really kind!” Akaashi writes in his notebook, taking in everything the teacher has to say.

Terushima grins, “That’s really great. The arts are really important for children.”

Michimiya smiles back, “Yes! Daisuke was particularly interested in the art which makes it all the sadder. He was the best artist in my class.” Her voice is somber as she looks back into the classroom where the young children are chatting loudly.

“Have any of the other families ever expressed jealousy over the Amori family’s wealth?” Akaashi asks.

“Um, no I don’t believe so. If they do they do it off school grounds,” Michimiya says, blinking at the man.

Terushima clicks his tongue, “Could you give us the family names of some of Daisuke’s friends? Just so we can make sure that we can rule them out as suspects.”

“This is an Owl case right?” Michimiya asks suddenly, “I can assure you that none of my student’s families could ever do something so horrific.”

Akaashi chuckles softly, “Michimiya-san, this may surprise you but serial killers are very good at deflecting their emotions. They’re very good at deception. Anybody around us could be the Owl which is why this case is so difficult because we’re essentially looking through all of Tokyo for a man, or woman, who is hard to trace. Nobody has come forward to confess they’re a killer, even if they’re doing it out of admiration.”

Michimiya’s eyes widen as Akaashi explains this to her. “A-Admiration?”

“Serial killers often pick up followings. People who idolize them and would do anything to get close to them. Sometimes they would even kill for them. It’s easy to spot a follower. Luckily we haven’t had any of those yet but to eliminate the possibility could you please give us the family names of the child’s friends.”

Michimiya looks hesitant for a moment before she rambles off a list of four names, explaining that those families are particularly close to the Amori family. The two agents thank her for her time and say that they’ll be in touch soon. Michimiya scurries back into her classroom and hurriedly shuts the door as the two agents depart.

When the two get back to the office they sit at their desks silently, Akaashi looking through files again and Terushima typing away on his computer. Nobody bothers them, just watches them curiously.

Akaashi’s got an excel document open with all the victims names, age, occupation and any other important information. He sweeps his eyes over the occupation column, highlighting those that overlap. He researches family names in the database and online, looking for some kind of motive to begin with.

He prints the document once he’s done and adds highlights with an actual marker since the color didn’t print. He caps the marker and examines the piece of paper once more.

Akaashi rises and walks from the office, Terushima watching him go. He jams his thumb into the up arrow of the elevator, stepping in quickly when the doors part. He could easily take the stairs but the thought does not cross his mind. Soon he’s walking down the hall and opening the door to the analytics department.

Tsukishima is sitting back lazily in his chair, another game pulled up on the screen. It looks like a knock-off version of flappy bird. He doesn’t make an attempt to hide what he’s doing. Yamaguchi flicks his eyes nervously to the blonde before resting on Akaashi, “Good afternoon Akaashi-san.”

Akaashi bows his head slightly, “Yamaguchi-san can you answer a question for me?”

“M-Me?” Yamaguchi squeaks and looks at Tsukishima again. Tsukishima doesn’t budge.

“Yes you. You too are a worker here are you not?” Akaashi places a hand on his hip.

“I-I am! I just…” He closes his eyes and then looks at Akaashi confidently, “How can I help?”

“Statistically speaking, how often do serial killers use financial gains as a motive to kill?” Akaashi questions.

Yamaguchi twirls a pen in his fingers, “Well, um…” he casts his eyes down to show that he doesn’t know the answer.

Tsukishima heaves a sigh as he taps the space bar continuously, “Serial killers have many motives a lot. Japan hasn’t seen a serial killer since 2005 and he killed because he wanted to see human blood. However, serial killers here do kill to gain money more often than not. There’s no statistical data to show.” Tsukishima pauses his game and swivels in his chair to face the agent, “Why?”

Akaashi shuts the door and walks over to him, beckoning Yamaguchi to come closer. The brunette rounds the desk and stands at his side. Akaashi places his excel table in front of the two, “I was looking through all the victims’ occupations if they had one and more often than not they’re all related with business. Business men get paid… a lot.”

Tsukishima adjusts his glasses and stares up into gray eyes, “So what? You think this guy has some personal vendetta against businessmen?”

Akaashi sighs, “I don’t know but if we can just get some kind of _motive_ then we can finally start gaining potential leads, correct?”

Yamaguchi pulls the sheet over to him and studies it. “I think it would be plausible if all the victims worked at the same company. Then you could track down enemies of the company right? But these are all over the place. Plus there would be no reason to kill two children. Why not just kill the husband or wife since they’re the one with the job?”

Akaashi ran his fingers through his hair, “I guess you’re right.”

Yamaguchi blushes, “I-I’m sorry if I ruined the case! I was just stating my opinion!”

Akaashi chuckles, amused, “Yamaguchi it’s alright. It’s important insight. I was really just grasping at straws to find some kind of connection between them. I learned today that the family that was recently killed was very wealthy so I took the fact and flew with it.”

“Don’t give yourself false hope,” Tsukishima returns to his game, tapping the space bar lazily.

“Tsukishima do you ever do actual work?” Akaashi asks.

“If you give me actual work to do I’ll do it,” Tsukishima responds, slight bitterness in his voice. Yamaguchi’s eyes widen in his direction.

“You’re going to be fired if you don’t start looking into things. Pull up some files and start fucking doing something or else Yamaguchi is going to surpass you.” Akaashi says flatly.

“Oh, n-no Tsukki is very good at his job!” Yamaguchi pipes.

“Shut up Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima growls and closes out of the game. Akaashi smirks triumphantly and walks out the office with a little wave. He returns to his desk while Terushima is still looking through the internet for any connections. He can hear the clanking of Terushima’s tongue ring on his teeth and wonders if it hurts.

Akaashi sits and places the piece of paper into the other stack of papers on his desk with a sigh. He’s really fed up with the way this case is going. He thinks he’s finally found some kind of motive behind the Owl and is shot down immediately. It sucks.

Akaashi pulls out his phone and smiles to himself as he sees a text from Bokuto.

>> _hey hey! i forgot to ask what time u wanna go out Saturday!_

>> _Whatever time is good for you Bokuto-san_.

Akaashi’s response is simple and Bokuto responds immediately. Apparently he’s doing as much work as Akaashi is.

>> _Does 2 sound good?_

>> _Perfect._

“Is that your date?” Terushima teases, eyes moving back to the screen.

Akaashi purses his lips, “Ask me again when you find something we can use.”

“Rodger.”

Akaashi leans into the weight of his chair, staring at all the documents on his desk. The sudden urge to take a nap is strong once more.


	4. Nos. 17, 18, & 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First dates and volleyball matches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So according to Word I haven't opened this chapter since June 29 haha.... Of course I reread it and edited it some more and I remembered why I haven't opened it; I wasn't happy with this chapter then and I'm not happy with it now. But I hope you guys enjoy it, it's a chapter filled with fluff so... Yeah! Enjoy!  
> This chapter is also unnecessarily long oops but I can promise that the next chapter is even longer and the next chapter is my favorite!!

The man can barely contain his excitement. He’s itching to do something, _anything_ to help quench his excitement until the weekend.

He knows what he has to do.

He picks a building and goes off, marching into the designated rooms. The kills are fun. He wakes his victims up and toys with them, stabbing them until they can barely stand from blood loss. He inflicts the final blow to the jugular and shoots their eyes out with the silent pistol.

The buzz of excitement dies a bit but it’s still there, lingering in his chest. As he looks down at his latest masterpiece, blood rotting the teeth of his victim, he hopes he can control himself until the next kill.

As always, he leaves the same way he comes in: through the front door.

The next morning Akaashi gets the call for murders seventeen, eighteen and nineteen. “What do you mean they’re not in the same apartment? And why isn’t Terushima-kun calling me?” He asks as he trips out of bed.

 

* * *

 

Kuroo yawns, “It’s the same building but it’s one apartment on three different floors. Three murders, three different rooms. It’s a fucking disaster. Also, Terushima isn’t answering his phone so I’m gonna assume he’s asleep. Can you pick him up?”

“I guess,” Akaashi huffs as he reaches his closet, tugging a button down off the hook.

Kuroo snickers, “Thanks ‘Kaashi. I’ll send you the details.” Then his voice is gone and Akaashi tosses his phone on the bed to quickly get dressed. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, so tired he can barely think. He rushes around his neat apartment, almost forgetting his tie before rushing out the door. He opens his phone as he rides the elevator to the ground floor.

>> _still on 4 coffee this mornin?_

Akaashi groans. In his tired stupor he had forgotten that he usually gets coffee before work. Even though they go every day, Bokuto always asks. He loves asking Akaashi questions even if he knows the answers.

>> _sorry, I can’t today._

Akaashi keeps it short and sweet. His heart pounds as he gets a response.

>> _No problem!!! I’ll see you tomorrow then!!!_ _J_

A small smile creeps onto Akaashi’s face as he approaches the parking garage and finds his car. He gets into the front seat and drops the phone into the cup holder, pulling out of his spot and onto the road. It takes him ten minutes to drive to Terushima’s apartment building and he’s dreading going up to his partner’s room.

He unlocks the door with the spare key he has and steps inside. It’s eerily quiet and he toes his shoes off before stepping in further. It’s an absolute mess. There are open food containers everywhere and clothes strewn across the floor. Akaashi has been inside before and it never fails to disturb him to see the state in which Terushima lives.

Akaashi makes his way to the bedroom where he can hear Terushima’s loud snores bouncing off the walls. _No wonder he didn’t hear his phone_. He gazes at his sleeping partner for a moment before going back to the kitchen, filling a cup with water. Blankly, he heads back to the bedroom and proceeds to throw the cup of water into the sleeping face of Terushima.

Terushima wakes with a start and sputters as water drips into his eyes and mouth. He coughs and wipes it away and glares at the figure standing before him, “What the fuck?!” His voice is thick with sleep.

Akaashi crosses his arms over his chest, “Get up, three more people have been killed.”

Terushima sits up quickly, holding his head in his hand afterwards. Through grit teeth he asks, “Why didn’t anybody call me?!”

“Kuroo-san said he called you but you never answered. I can see why now.”

Terushima shoots him another nasty glare before rolling out of bed. He doesn’t care that he’s in nothing but his boxers or that Akaashi is watching him. He pulls a pair of slacks over his legs, slipping in the process, and heads into the bathroom to freshen up. Akaashi leaves the bedroom and sits on the couch, waiting for his partner to hurry up.

It takes Terushima a minute too long to get ready and they’re out the door with Akaashi gruffly mumbling at him. Terushima apologizes with a lopsided grin but Akaashi knows he doesn’t mean it.

The drive to the apartment complex where the latest murders take place is about fifteen minutes. When they arrive the press is swarming outside the doors and it’s a battle to try to get inside. Kuroo had been waiting for them and ushers them into the lobby, fighting off the reporters. He gives Yahaba a stern look before leading the duo to the third floor.

As always, the murders are bloody. The house is a wreck, blood everywhere and broken glass shattered across the floor. The victim in this apartment is a woman of thirty-seven. Even without her eyes Akaashi can tell she was beautiful. It’s a shame that so many people are being taken left and right.

“Are we taking DNA samples from every apartment?” Akaashi asks Kenma as he peers over him.

Kenma nods and nudges a piece of hair from his eyes, “Yes. We test them every time and they always turn out to be just the victims’.”

“I can’t wait until this fucker slips up,” Terushima adds, “or he gets bolder and gives us a tip as to who he is.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes, “This isn’t a movie Terushima-kun.”

Terushima pouts, “Come on, that would be really helpful though!”

“It’s been four months, halfway to five. If he wanted to toy with us he would have already,” Akaashi explains. Kenma sighs softly and looks at the two of them through his hair.

“I just hope that no more children are involved,” Kenma states, shivering slightly at the thought before watching his team lift the body into a bag to go to the lab for testing. They are gentle with it and barely flinch as more blood drips from the corpse where it hadn’t already dried. Akaashi has to look away as the woman flops around lifelessly.

“The files will be on your desk by the time you get to work Akaashi!” Kuroo sings as he walks past him.

Akaashi scowls, “Where are you going?”

“Downstairs. There’s two other murders in this building I have to gather intel on. Daichi and Asahi, and Konoha and Sarukui are dealing with those.” Kuroo enlightens them, “You two focus on this one though. We’re all working on this case now. We’ll let the police handle anything else.”

Terushima scoffs, “Oh they’ll get a boner for that.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes and walks to the kitchen, surveying it. It’s small and cramped but completely spotless. The Owl always brought the victims into the living room for some reason, although the kitchen has been prone to be bloody at times. Most likely because knives are located there and some victims are brave enough to fight back.

Akaashi wonders if he’ll have to face a situation where he’s confronted by the Owl and has to defend himself. He’s more than capable of doing so but would he freeze up in that moment? Would the Owl overpower him? Who knows?

Akaashi runs his fingers through his curls and sighs. He wishes he could be getting coffee with Bokuto right now instead of going back and mindlessly looking through files. He wants it to be the weekend so he can spend most of Saturday with the child-like man without a care in the world.

“Are you okay?” Kenma asks suddenly behind him. Akaashi twirls to meet his gaze.

“Yes. Perfect.” Akaashi nods.

Kenma rocks on his feet and eyes him knowingly. He knows Akaashi will talk about it if he wants to. “If you say so…” Kenma whispers before leaving the room.

Akaashi looks at his phone. There are no messages. He heaves another sigh and finds Terushima, ready to go. There’s not much they can do here anymore. Their real work is back at the building.

 

* * *

 

The wait until Saturday is excruciating. It’s only a two day wait but Akaashi feels as if it’s forever. When he wakes on Saturday morning to the sun in his eyes and the taste of sleep in his mouth, his heart beats anxiously. He remembers that he’s meeting Bokuto in a few hours and doesn’t know what to do while he waits.

He takes a long shower and then prepares coffee before delicately picking out an outfit. He settles for a black and blue plaid button down and plain denim jeans. After getting dressed he compulsively cleans his apartment. By the time he’s finished it’s time to go, thankfully, and he pulls on his coat and converse before exiting.

The drive to the mini golf place is filled with anticipation as Akaashi taps his thumbs on the steering wheel. He hasn’t been this nervous in a while. Normally he’s calm and composed but he gets the feeling around Bokuto that he’s not good enough. The man is so lively, why would he want to be with somebody like Akaashi?

Akaashi has always had a tough time expressing himself. Well, except when alcohol is involved. He’s more forward when he has a few drinks in him. Other than that he doesn’t shout his feelings to the world like Bokuto does. But he guesses that Bokuto likes that kind of thing.

Akaashi finds a parking spot and sits in his car for a moment before exiting on shaking legs. As he approaches the mini golf course he can see Bokuto standing there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. His whole being brightens when he sees the curly haired man. He pulls his hand from his pocket and waves frantically, “Hey hey hey Akaashi!”

Akaashi approaches him with a small smile, “Hello Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto grins, “Are you ready to witness the master in action? I’m really great at mini golf!”

“I’m sure you are.”

“Let’s go!” Bokuto pays for him and Akaashi watches him calm as he steps up to the ball. He has intense focus as he gently, but not too gently, taps the ball with the put. Akaashi watches the ball move down the turf and go into the hole for a hole-in-one.

Bokuto hoots, “Hey hey hey did you see that Akaashi? That was awesome right?!”

The smile finds his lips easily, “Yes, Bokuto-san, that was quite impressive.” He puts his own ball down and lines his put up. “I don’t think I’m going to be as good as you.” He dares steal a glance at Bokuto.

Bokuto is watching him, eyes on his face. It makes Akaashi shudder. There’s nothing in his eyes but yet there is. It’s hard to explain and Akaashi can’t determine what it is. He looks back down at the red golf ball that he had chosen and takes a deep breath before hitting it lightly.

The ball goes halfway down the turf before stopping. Akaashi walks over to it to hit again and suddenly Bokuto’s hand is on his arm. It’s warm through the material of his shirt and he’s pretty sure he’s stopped breathing. “Do you want me to help you line up so you can get it in?”

“Um…” Akaashi looks at him. Golden eyes rest on his face with a smile pushing at those plump lips. Akaashi wants to kiss him. He shakes his head quickly and impulsively hits the ball. It goes past the hole but rests fairly close to it.

Bokuto smiles at him, “So close!”

Akaashi blushes and finally gets the ball in on the third try. Bokuto is apparently very skilled at mini golf and each hole is a feat in itself with his cheering. Halfway through the date he admits that he chose mini golf because he wanted to show off to Akaashi a bit, Akaashi responding that he didn’t have to show off for him. “But I wanted to!” Bokuto said while scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Bokuto hits hole-in-ones every hole they go to. Akaashi feels more and more insecure with each shot he misses, even with Bokuto saying encouraging things to him and cheers him on with his sunshine smile. He finds Bokuto’s accuracy very intriguing and suspicious. For somebody who seems as eccentric as Bokuto, everything he does is precise.

When Akaashi lines up to the fifteenth hole, Bokuto is standing behind him, touching his forearms lightly. Akaashi tenses as fingers curl around his wrists, not expecting them at all, “Is it alright if I help you now?”

Akaashi swallows and nods. Bokuto feels hot against him, his chest flush against Akaashi’s chest. Akaashi’s heart is racing once more. What’s wrong with him? No guy has ever had this affect over him.

But not all guys are Bokuto Koutarou.

Bokuto moves Akaashi’s arms back so that he can swing them slightly and then the ball is moving as it collides with the put. It arches perfectly and hits the turf with a bounce, rolling and then dropping into the hole on the first put.

Akaashi’s mouth drops slightly and he blinks. He looks at Bokuto over his shoulder and is vaguely aware of how close Bokuto’s face is to his own, “How did you do that?”

Bokuto’s hands rest lightly on his waist and he chuckles, eyebrows wiggling in a way that reminds him of Terushima, “What can I say? I’m really good at putting balls in holes.” He feels Bokuto’s breath against his lips and Akaashi lurches away from him. He goes to retrieve their balls from the hole and holds them up.

“Next one?” Akaashi is positive his voice is shaking.

Bokuto plucks his ball – the blue one – from Akaashi’s fingers and grins, not seeing anything wrong, “We’re almost done Akaashi!” He skips happily to the sixteenth hole, Akaashi trailing behind him. He watches closely as ease trails over Bokuto’s body and shakes his head as he hits a hole in one – again.

“I really do not understand.” Akaashi says to himself.

“Understand what?” Bokuto’s head is tilted slightly in confusion.

Akaashi motions to the hole, “How you do this so… effortlessly.”

Bokuto nudges him with his shoulder and Akaashi feels shockwave pulse through his body, “Practice. Lots and lots of practice! Your turn now! I think you can do it all by yourself this time!”

Akaashi sighs and lines up. He didn’t focus on the ball when Bokuto had been touching him before. He had been focused on _Bokuto touching him_. It was electric. He hits the ball and misses, as usual. They play the last two holes, Bokuto winning the whole game. He whoops in celebration and repeats, “Did ya see me Akaashi? Wasn’t I awesome?” in which Akaashi always responds, “Yes, Bokuto-san.”

As they leave the mini golf place, Akaashi burrows his hands into his pockets. It’s late November now and the air is cooling rapidly. It’s not cold enough for a heavy jacket but it’s not warm enough to walk around without one.

“So… yakiniku?” Bokuto asks hopefully, looking at the younger man.

Akaashi chuckles, “Yes. Did you drive here?”

Bokuto shakes his head, “Oh, I don’t drive. I just walk everywhere. Or run.”

Akaashi nods, “Well, I brought my car so if you direct me to the yakiniku place we can be warm when we get there.”

“That sounds great!” They pile into Akaashi’s car, Bokuto marveling at how clean it is and how cool it is that he gets to ride in a police car. Bokuto rambles on and on about how he’s always wanted to be inside a police car the whole way to the yakiniku restaurant.

Once seated inside the friendly conversation continues, mostly Bokuto rambling on and Akaashi sipping his drink while listening. Bokuto insists on cooking everything because it only comes out perfect when he does it.

“Do you like sports, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks suddenly as he watches Bokuto’s muscles flex when he reaches to grab a piece of meat.

Bokuto grins, “I do, yeah! I really love volleyball. I played in high school.”

“I did too, actually.” Akaashi smiles because Bokuto’s reaction is priceless. His jaw goes slack and a piece of meat is left hanging on chopsticks before dropping onto the plate. Bokuto blinks before collecting himself and the meat, swallowing it.

“What position? I was the captain, ace and wing spiker of my team!” Bokuto puffs out his chest and grins.

“That’s very impressive. I was a setter.”

“If we went to the same school you could’ve tossed to me! That would’ve been so cool! We would’ve made a great team.” The man keeps smiling.

“What makes you think that?” Akaashi leans his head in his hands and eyes Bokuto curiously.

Bokuto shrugs and eats a couple more pieces of meat, “Dunno. You’re so calm all the time and I had a tendency to get… moody and I dunno. I just think you could’ve calmed me down is all.”

“Moody?”

“Yeah! I get, uh, mood swings. But I have them under control so they’re not a problem! I mostly just get sad and insecure when I’m in one of my moods,” Bokuto laughs loudly, “There was this one time during a match where I completely forgot how to spike because I was so upset I kept getting blocked! My team was pissed.”

Akaashi chuckles, “I would’ve been pretty upset myself.”

Bokuto beams, “We still won though. We were really good! We should play together sometime though, I would really like that!”

Akaashi picks up his chopsticks, “Actually, a bunch of people for work are getting together for a game next Saturday. We only have eleven players if you would like to join us.”

Bokuto’s eyes sparkle for a moment before he laughs nervously, “But those are all your work friends! I don’t want to impose, really.”

Akaashi shakes his head and lifts a piece of meat off the grill, “They’re all really friendly and I want you to come. So…?”

“I guess it’s a date then!” Bokuto throws his fist in the air, clearly excited to see Akaashi play volleyball.

 

* * *

 

The next week passes with nothing eventful. Akaashi gets coffee with Bokuto every morning and goes to work as usual, only to be reminded that they have nothing for a case that’s been going for four and a half months now. They just have a growing list of names of victims and no potential suspects. Akaashi almost punches a wall from frustration… or rather Tsukishima because he _still_ is not doing any work or being helpful.

Saturday comes and Akaashi picks Bokuto up at his apartment. He stays in the car and waits for Bokuto to animatedly climb into the passenger’s seat, already clad in gym clothes. Akaashi immediately hones in on his kneepads, “Why do your kneepads go all the way up your thighs?”

Bokuto laughs, “Come on Akaashi, I’m a pretty modest guy. Can’t have anybody staring at my thighs now can I?”

Akaashi blushes slightly as he’s always wanted to see Bokuto’s thighs and maybe sink his teeth into them, “You, modest? Hard to believe.”

Bokuto pouts, “What’s that supposed t’ mean?

Akaashi smirks as he turns a corner, “You have no problem showing off your muscles all the time so it’s hard to believe that somebody like you could be modest. Or think they are at least.”

Bokuto looks at him with mock hurt, “My muscles are a treasure to this world Akaashi!” Akaashi just chuckles.

When they make it inside the neighborhood gym, Akaashi is not expecting to be swept off his feet by a messy-haired cat. He lets out an embarrassing squeak as he’s hauled into the air, blushing from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. “K-Kuroo-san!”

Kuroo grins lazily up at him, “Happy birthday Akaashi!”

 _Oh_. Akaashi forgot his own birthday.

“Oh, um, thanks. Put me down now.” He kicks Kuroo in the shin and the taller all but drops him. Bokuto, thankfully, has fast reflexes and catches Akaashi before he can fall.

“How come you didn’t tell me it was your birthday? I could’ve gotten you something!” Bokuto whines and he actually does look hurt now.

Akaashi glances to the side and runs his fingers through his hair, “I, um forgot.”

Bokuto gawks at him, “How do you forgot your own birthday?! It’s one of the most important days of the year!”

“It happens every year, man,” Kuroo smirks, “Akaashi doesn’t like all the attention on him so we always throw him a party or do something like this.”

Bokuto smiles, “I would’ve thrown you a party if I had known!”

“No parties.” Akaashi mumbles and pushes past Kuroo to pull his own kneepads on inside the gym. The rest of the crew comes to wish him happy birthday, Terushima tackling him to the floor in a hug.

“Happy birthday partner!” He places a sloppy kiss on Akaashi’s cheek and Akaashi gives him a look of death. “Oh you must be Akaashi’s mystery date!” Terushima is up and off of him in an instant, bounding over to Bokuto. Bokuto eyes him carefully but deems him harmless so he nods.

“I’m Bokuto,” he holds out a hand for Terushima to shake.

Terushima shakes it fervently, “Terushima Yuuji! I’m Akaashi’s partner at work! He refuses to have a cool nickname though.”

“Like I said, we’re not in a movie, Terushima-kun.” Akaashi sighs and places his hands on his hips.

Bokuto pouts, “But Akaashi, you _gotta_ have a cool nickname!”

Terushima leans his elbow on Bokuto’s shoulder, “You get me dude.” They share a fist bump.

Kuroo claps his hands together, “Alright alright. Let’s get a game started! I automatically pick Kenma to play on my team.” He pulls the blonde to his chest and wraps an arm around him protectively. Kenma rolls his eyes and hides behind his hair, itching to pull his phone. “Akaashi gets to pick for the other team since it’s his birthday!”

Daichi scoffs, “Who decided that you’d be the captain of one team?”

Kuroo wiggles his eyebrows, “I did of course.”

They slowly pick their teams. Akaashi’s team consists of Bokuto, Konoha, Sarukui, Terushima and Yaku. Kuroo’s team is made up of Kenma, Daichi, Suga, Asahi, and Lev. Kenma looks less than pleased to have Lev on his team but if Lev notices he ignores it and continues to pester the blonde.

The game starts off slow, Kuroo’s team leading in score. When it finally comes that Akaashi tosses to Bokuto, he spikes it down with vigor. “Hey hey hey!” He yells out when he gets the point, “Akaashi your tossing is perfect!” Akaashi smiles slightly and blushes. Terushima whistles at them.

Bokuto and Kuroo have a rivalry going on through the net, as Kuroo is the only one who can block Bokuto effectively. Akaashi wonders if he’s going to see Bokuto in one of his moods today. Fortunately, it doesn’t come. The game is filled with “ _nice receives_ ” “ _don’t minds_!” and shouts of the like as they all get way too into it for being in their late twenties. Akaashi’s team wins the first set, going to the sidelines to drink water.

“I haven’t played a game of volleyball in _forever_ ,” Bokuto says as he sits beside Akaashi who gulps his water down rapidly.

“Are you having a good time?” Akaashi asks, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah! Kuroo’s really great at blocking and I really wanna get one past him.” There’s determination in the eccentric man’s eyes and Akaashi shivers. It’s just like when they were playing mini golf.

“Good luck with that man,” Terushima says, clapping him on the back as he joins them, “Kuroo’s like a fucking wall. Nothing gets past him.”

Kuroo looks over his shoulder, catching their stares, “Y’all are just jealous!”

“Jealous of what?” Bokuto fires back, a smirk on his face.

“My awesome skills,” Kuroo drawls. He walks over to them, “You’re pretty awesome yourself bro. That spike is powerful. You give Asahi a run for his money.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, motioning to Asahi, who’s talking with Daichi and Suga.

Bokuto smiles, “Well, I was once an ace and wing spiker after all. I had the best position on the team! You gotta have power if you’re a wing spiker”

Kuroo cackles, “Ohoho we’re confident I see. You wanna make a little bet?”

Bokuto leans forward, “I’m listening.”

Akaashi places a hand on Bokuto’s arm, “Bokuto-san I wouldn’t-“

“Oh hush Akaashi,” Kuroo says, eyes never leaving Bokuto’s, “Whoever loses this next set has to buy three rounds of drinks at the bar.”

Bokuto, never one to back down from a challenge, takes Kuroo’s hands and shakes it, “Deal! I won’t lose bro, mark my words.”

Bokuto loses. He gets pretty upset but Akaashi manages to calm him down, rubbing his arm soothingly. It’s the longest he’s touched Bokuto since they started seeing each other and the heat under his touch feels nice. They go to the bar and Bokuto orders drinks for everybody after Yaku and Lev arrive.

“This one is for Akaashi,” he raises his drink high, “Happy birthday!”

They all raise their drinks to Akaashi, who shifts uncomfortable, and cheer “happy birthday!” Surprisingly, some of his coworkers give him gifts. He grimaces at Terushima’s, which is a book about sex, and Terushima pretty much topples over laughing. When Akaashi looks to Bokuto for support he can see his shoulders shaking trying to contain his laughter.

Suga pulls Akaashi to him halfway through their second drink, “You look so tense. It’s your birthday! You deserve to have fun!”

Akaashi eyes him warily, “Are you going to suggest I get laid again Suga?”

Suga winks at him and slips something into his back pocket, patting it afterwards, “Just in case.” Then he skips back over to Daichi, who instinctively wraps an arm around the ashen haired man’s waist. He makes his way back to Bokuto, who drunkenly drapes his arm around Akaashi.

“Hey hey! Are you having a good birthday?”

“I guess I am. Suga gave me a condom. He’s been trying to get me laid forever.” Akaashi averts his eyes and directs the conversation elsewhere, “I’m happy you played volleyball with us today.”

“Me too! Thanks for inviting me, it was a lot of fun. I really like your coworkers.” Bokuto smiles and Akaashi notices the flush on his cheeks, “But I like you the most!”

Akaashi blushes and smiles softly, “I would hope so… I like you a lot, Bokuto-san.” He curses the alcohol again for loosening his tongue. It’s not such a bad thing this time though.

“I like you too!” Bokuto squeezes his shoulder affectionately and Akaashi can’t help but lean into him. “Hey, how come Kenma keeps staring at me?” He points to Kenma whose gaze flickers away when he realizes Bokuto noticed him.

Akaashi chuckles, “We’ve been friends since middle school so we look out for each other. My last relationship wasn’t… a good one and he’s probably just looking out for me. He watches everybody. Don’t be freaked out by it.”

“Why wasn’t it a good one?” Bokuto tilts his head to the side.

“He was, um, older and married and it was mess. I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was petty and… yeah.” Akaashi looks away.

“Ah, I’m sorry I asked!” Bokuto is quick to say, “Are we, um, dating now?”

Akaashi bites his lip, “I’d like to be if you do.”

Bokuto nods, “Yes! I would like that a lot. A lot a lot.”

Akaashi laughs softly and covers his mouth with his hand. Bokuto wraps his fingers around Akaashi’s wrists and pulls his hand away, “I like your laugh, it’s cute.”

“I…” Akaashi’s never been told his laugh is cute before so he doesn’t know what to do, “Thanks I guess.”

“You’re welcome.” Bokuto smiles at him and rubs his upper arm affectionately. Bokuto is warm and Akaashi could rest against him all day.

“Yo,” Kuroo swings an arm around Bokuto’s shoulder, pressing into him, “you’re a lucky one if you get Akaashi to loosen up. He doesn’t do that for most people. I’ve known him since high school and I’m pretty sure he still hates me.”

“I don’t hate you Kuroo-san.” Akaashi sighs and maneuvers away from Bokuto’s arm. Bokuto grins.

“Wow, you all have known each other for a long time, huh?”

Kuroo nods and sips his beer, “Only Kenma, Akaashi and me. We all went to high school together. But the rest of these goons we either met in training or when we started working here. But everybody’s so comfortable that it feels like we’ve been friends for years.”

Bokuto watches him in wonder, “Wow that’s awesome.”

“Yeah! You fit right in though, bro. It’s nice to see stiff-shoulders over here smile,” Kuroo winks at Akaashi.

“I smile a lot, thank you very much.” Akaashi jabs him in the chest.

Kuroo looks at Bokuto with lidded eyes, “He’s lying. In high school he had resting bitch face. The kohai on our team were afraid to even talk to him.”

“Aw but he’s so cute how could you be scared of him!” Bokuto’s eyes rest solely on Akaashi now and Akaashi squirms under the heavy gaze.

Kuroo cackles, almost dropping his drink, “Oh shit, you’d be surprised. This one time…”

They stay at the bar for another hour or so before leaving. Kuroo’s told enough stories about Akaashi that he can be embarrassed for at least three years. He’s face heats up as he remembers the way Bokuto listened carefully, seemingly placing all this new information in his head. Akaashi wishes he would forget it all but he knows he won’t.

Akaashi’s car sits at front but again he’s too tipsy to drive so they walk, hand in hand, to Akaashi’s apartment. He insists that Bokuto doesn’t have to walk him back but Bokuto waves him off.

Once they’re outside the building, Akaashi stops, turning to Bokuto. “Thank you for walking me back.”

“You’re welcome! I didn’t want to make you walk back on your birthday and stuff,” Bokuto grins and rubs the back of his neck, “I still feel pretty bad about not getting you a present.”

“It’s alright, I never told you,” Akaashi says, reluctantly taking a step forward, “Bokuto-san?”

“Yes?” Bokuto asks breathlessly, watching Akaashi step closer to him.

“Will you… kiss me? It can be like your present to me?” Akaashi bites his lips as he watches Bokuto lick his lips. Bokuto’s rough fingers come up to cup his face and his thumbs sweep across Akaashi’s cheeks.

His response is to press his lips firmly to Akaashi’s. Akaashi isn’t expecting how soft Bokuto’s lips are and sighs in surprise. His hands come up to grip the front of Bokuto’s shirt and one of Bokuto’s hands drop to his waist. Bokuto pulls away, unsure, but Akaashi draws him back him for another kiss, and another, and then all the kisses meld into one.

Their lips move together wetly, making quiet smacking sounds every time they move. Akaashi’s whole body feels on fire from the kiss and he slowly beckons Bokuto into his mouth with the flick of a tongue.

Bokuto’s tongue glides against his own and his calloused hand squeezes his hip, earning a small moan from the back of Akaashi’s throat. He licks at Bokuto’s tongue and they remain like this for a minute or so before he pulls away, realizing they’re in front of his apartment.

“I, uh,” Akaashi is at a loss for words, “Thank you.”

Bokuto grins and his lips are a deeper shade of red than normal, “You’re welcome. I’ll text you when I get home alright?”

Akaashi nods and steps out of Bokuto’s grip . They wave shyly to each other before Akaashi disappears into the building. Once inside his apartment he slides down the back of his door and exhales, heart still racing. _What was that_? Again, he usually isn’t so forward. But he really, really liked the way Bokuto’s lips felt against his own.

It felt right, like they were meant to do that from the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!!!!


	5. No. 20 and a Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case hits twenty victims and this one shocks them all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Fret not I have not forgotten about this, I was simply busy _all day_ and just got home. I've been waiting to post this chapter because this is one of my favorites!!! It's super long too so it makes up for you guys having to wait just a teensy bit longer to read it. Also this chapter is super important in my opinion!!!!!  
>  Just a warning though, it's sad.  
> I just want to say a thanks to everybody who has commented, given kudos, subscribed, bookmarked, and of course read. You guys all make me really happy and seeing your predictions just makes me so so _so_ giddy so please keep those coming!!!
> 
> A little update at where I'm at with writing this. I put a final chapter count up there and as you can see this will be closing out at **fourteen** chapters. I'm currently about to start writing chapter **twelve** so I'm way ahead and I'll let y'all know that everything went exactly as I planned and it gets _so good_. I have a friend who reads it the moment I finish editing and she's always on the edge of her seat eager for more so in her's and my opinions it's great. So yeah just a little update for y'all to know where I'm at.
> 
> ALSO THERE'S A MAKEOUT SCENE IN THIS SO IF THAT SKEEVES ANYBODY OUT IT STARTS WITH "There's a knock on the door" and ends with "They stay like that for a while"!!!!
> 
> Happy reading! Comments and kudos always appreciated! Keep those predictions coming!

The man stares down at the sleeping form of his next victim. He considers not going through with it this time. It’s too risky and he knows it’ll be a fight.

But he does love a challenge.

Quietly he creeps around the victim’s room, searching. Finally, he finds the gun he knows belongs to the guy and brings it into the living room, tucking it under the couch cushion. He’ll deal with it later. Next, he takes the man’s phone and places it in his back pocket so he won’t be able to call for help.

Then, he slides his fingers through the hair of the sleeping man and tugs his head back _hard_.

The man wakes with a start and finds his head bent at an awkward angle, “Wha-“ He can barely speak, his voice strained.

“Glad you’re awake.”

 _Huh?_ The man clenches his teeth and suddenly his heart is racing. Through blurry eyes he looks at the time on the alarm clock. _2:23_. It’s perfect timing for the Owl. He knows that he’s been chosen as the next victim. He’s going to die tonight.

But not if he can help it.

His hands claw at the arm holding his head back and he presses his thumb roughly into the pressure point there. Adrenaline shoots through his body as the killer yelps and jumps back. The man throws himself from his bed and makes the mistake of searching for his gun.

The killer’s teeth glint in the moonlight and he throws a punch.

The man is trained so he dodges it as if it’s second nature, only by a millisecond. He ducks under the arm and runs for the kitchen, frantically grabbing at a knife.

But the Owl is fast and the click of a gun’s trigger sounds in front of him. “You really think a measly knife is going to save you? And here I thought this would be difficult.” There’s no emotion behind the words. They’re empty.

 _What?_ The man blinks at the owl. His face is hidden but there’s something… _No._

The man dives forward, driving the knife at the Owl. The Owl’s elbows connects with his arm and he drops the knife with a cry, but not after nicking him in the arm with it. And then there’s a blade in his stomach. He winces as it’s dragged through his skin agonizingly slow and very deep. He feels the blood soak into his pajamas bottoms and his knees give out.

“Why?” He chokes out. He tries to stand and with some strength brings the Owl to the ground with him, decking him in the face.

He clutches at his stomach and stumbles towards the living room. His blood is warm as it seeps through the fabric of his shirt. He collapses on the couch and feels something cool poking at his knee. Hand coated in blood he reaches between the cushions and pulls out the gun he could’ve used before.

The Owl approaches him cautiously, seeing the gun pointed in his direction. The man’s vision is going in and out, the blood pooling around his arm too rapidly. His aim is going to be off. He’s trembling so violently that he doesn’t even know if he’ll hit. But if he can just get another knick, have blood on the crime scene then…

He takes the shot. By the way the Owl cries out he knows he’s met his target. The Owl curses and he drops the gun. “Why?” He bleats again, breathlessly.

“Why am I doing this?” The Owl’s voice is steady, even after just being shot. The man coughs and it sends blood shooting from his stomach. The wound is deep. He’s not going to make it. “I’m doing this because it’s fun.” The Owl laughs. It sounds…

He’s sinking against the couch cushions, tears lingering behind his eyes. He sees spots and then the Owl’s face his above him. His eyes widen because _oh my god_ -

Two silenced shots ring through the apartment. Eyes are destroyed, beautiful brown eyes that had only seen twenty-eight years of life. They’re gone with the pull of a trigger. And then the neck is snapped and his lifeless body is shoved to the floor. For added damage the Owl kicks in him in the ribs.

The killer presses his thumb into his wound. It hit him in the thigh, soaking into the material of his jeans. A few drops of blood had hit the floor. He’s not dumb enough to leave it there. He’s a little annoyed with himself at how rusty he is. It’s only been six weeks since the last one. He cleans it up after conveniently finding bleach, the scent of it airing through the apartment. He collects the knife that nicked him earlier and places the blade in the plastic bag along with the bullets from the eye sockets.

He wraps a towel around his thigh and limps out the same way he came in: through the front door.

 

* * *

 

A month goes by since Akaashi’s birthday. Christmas comes and goes and he spends it in Kuroo’s apartment, Bokuto’s arm wrapped around his waist as they all tear at presents. He always spends his Christmases with Kuroo and Kenma since they’re basically family to him, and they can’t afford to go see their family, not for a night.

They never know when they’ll be called in to work.

Bokuto fits right in with Akaashi and his friends. They go on a double date with Kuroo and Kenma every Saturday since the volleyball match and he has to suffer through all the memes that are spit between the two. Akaashi can’t keep track of how many times he’s rolled his eyes or how many times Kenma has ignored both men’s advances to get him to admit they’re funny. Bokuto and Kuroo have declared each other “bros for life,” much to Akaashi’s horror.

“Sometimes I think you like Kuroo more than me,” Akaashi teased lightly one night. Bokuto took it to heart and worshipped Akaashi’s mouth with his own to prove a point.

They hadn’t done anything past making out. Akaashi feels like a high schooler again, making out in the backseat of his car, straddling his boyfriend’s hips. He loves the way Bokuto hooks his thumbs into the loops of his jeans or slacks, the way their lips slots together perfectly, the way their tongues lick at each other desperately.

He loves the way Bokuto tastes like mint all the time with a touch of heat. He loves how his hair is soft even though it defies gravity and is probably a fire hazard. He loves how effortlessly Bokuto makes him laugh like he’s never laughed before. When he’s with Bokuto he laughs with his whole body.

Akaashi is falling very hard and very fast for a childlike, colorful-haired weirdo. He doesn’t know what to do. He worries that it’ll end like his last relationship and he can’t, no he _won’t_ have that. He’ll do everything right this time.

Akaashi’s job is still stressful but the Owl hasn’t killed a person in six weeks. Even with the case still ongoing, the whole team feels like they can relax and actually enjoy the holiday. Some are hopeful, thinking that maybe the Owl has run his course and is retired. They think he’s just waiting patiently for them to find something.

Others know it’s too good to be true. The Owl is plotting something bigger and scarier than they’ve dealt with. This is how Akaashi feels. And as he wakes up a week after the New Year with his phone ringing at seven in the morning, the sinking feeling in his gut leaps to his throat.

“Akaashi Keiji,” he grumbles into it. He has half a mind to fall back into the pillows and go back to sleep but the state of Kuroo’s voice on the other end jerks him awake.

“Fuck Akaashi….” He whispers. He sounds dejected and a little shocked. Akaashi blinks a few times before rolling on his back.

“Kuroo-san is everything alright? Is Kenma-kun okay?” Akaashi starts to panic.

There’s shifting and silence on the other end. “ _Kuroo_.” Akaashi presses, dropping the formalities to get the man to talk.

“The Owl…” Kuroo says and adds nothing else.

“Is Kenma okay?” Akaashi repeats. The Owl wouldn’t go that far would he?

“Kenma’s fine, thank god.” Kuroo breathes.

“Then what is the issue? Why do you sound like you’re about to cry?” Akaashi runs his fingers through his curls, getting impatient.

Kuroo inhales and doesn’t speak for some time, “I’m just… At a loss for words, ‘Kaashi.”

Akaashi sits up and leans against the headboard, “I don’t know why you’re calling me, Kuroo. Usually you call Terushima-kun first. Are you trying to tell me you want me to go wake him up again because I-“

“You can’t,” Kuroo’s voice falls flat.

Akaashi knows somewhere deep inside of him what’s going on. But his tired brain can’t seem to make the connection yet, “What do you mean I can’t?”

“He… He can’t wake up. He’s… The Owl… Terushima’s _dead_ Akaashi.”

Akaashi stills. “Kuroo, that is… that is really fucked up don’t say things like that.”

A growl emits from the other end, “I’m not fucking around Akaashi! Terushima’s fucking… His stomach is _open_ and his eyes are gone and his neck… He didn’t fucking deserve this.”

Akaashi looks at his hand, “Do you need me to come down there?”

“No. I wouldn’t do that to you. This is your fucking partner.”

“I’m going to see the pictures anyway.”

“I know but it’s always worse in person. If you don’t want to come to work nobody would blame you.”

“And let that fucker win?!” Akaashi exclaims suddenly. His voice cracks, still hoarse from sleep. “Look, I may have acted as if Terushima annoyed the shit out of me but he was a good guy. He… This is the last person this should’ve happened to.” He gets out of bed and throws his closet doors open.

“I’m gonna call Sawamura and Azumane down here to survey the place. You… go to work. Get coffee with Bokuto. Do _not_ tell him about this you hear me?” Kuroo’s voice is full of authority.

Akaashi sighs, “Fine. I’ll see you soon.” He hangs up and tosses his phone into the sheets, tugging clothes on. Every fiber of his being is begging him to scream or to punch something.

The Owl is going after the FBI now. He killed an agent. None of them expected this, especially not the first one of the New Year. A lot of them had been banking on this horror show being over.

Akaashi feels numb. He technically doesn’t have to be at work for another hour and a half and Bokuto isn’t on a particular schedule. He doesn’t want coffee. Quite frankly he just wants to scream and kick and curse for hours. But that’s not professional.

Akaashi grabs his phone and quickly dial’s his boyfriend’s number. He picks up on the second ring, “Hey hey Akaashi! What’s up, you don’t usually call in the morning.” He’s too chipper given the situation. Of course, he doesn’t know what’s going on but Akaashi feels slightly bitter about how happy the older man is.

“Bokuto-san, can you come to my apartment?” Akaashi drums his fingers on the nightstand beside his bed.

“Um, I can but… Are we not getting coffee?” Confusion tints Bokuto’s voice and Akaashi’s heart squeezes.

“I don’t want coffee. I just want to see you. Privately.”

Bokuto laughs nervously, “Am I in trouble?”

Akaashi sighs, “Bokuto-san. Please.” His tone says that he is not in a good mood. Bokuto catches on quickly.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can!” There’s a click of the line going dead. Akaashi collapses into the sheets, gripping them so tightly he fears they will rip. His breathing is labored as he’s overcome with rage. Sadness has yet to set in.

There’s a knock on his door some fifteen minutes later and he tumbles from the bed to rip the door open. Bokuto blinks in surprise and opens his mouth to greet him but doesn’t anticipate being dragged into the apartment. Akaashi slams his back against the door once it’s closed, slipping his leg between Bokuto’s thighs.

Bokuto raises thick, gray eyebrows, “Well hello to you too…” A sloppy grin appears on his face, “You know if you wanted to have a quick make out sesh you could’ve said that in the first place.”

Akaashi eyes him hungrily before saying, “Shut up.” He’s vaguely aware of the slight bruise on Bokuto’s face but at this moment that’s the least of his concerns. His lips are on Bokuto’s desperately a second later. Everything about this is so _wrong_ but Akaashi doesn’t care. Bokuto’s rough hands grasp at his waist so tight he knows there will be bruises. He presses their bodies flush against each other, snaking his fingers into the black and silver locks.

He clutches eagerly at the strands of hair, pushing his way into Bokuto’s mouth. Bokuto invites his tongue in willingly and soon they’re pressing against each other. Slick with saliva they dance against each other, Akaashi licking at the roof of Bokuto’s mouth and Bokuto gliding along Akaashi’s teeth. Everything about this kiss is wet and loud smacking sounds develop between the two but neither care.

Akaashi frantically pushes Bokuto’s coat off his shoulders and his shirt is tugged up. Their mouths part with a string of spit still connecting them. Akaashi feels drunk on lust and anger and sadness. He’s completely out of character but there are so many emotions swelling up in his chest and they all manifest themselves in physicality. He wastes no time sinking his teeth into Bokuto’s shoulder, sucking hard on the skin there.

“Oh,” Bokuto moans and reaches down to cup Akaashi’s ass through his slacks. He kneads the flesh through the fabric as Akaashi leaves marks all over his shoulder and collarbone.

Akaashi drags his tongue along the forming bruises, eyes sneaking a glance at Bokuto. His eyes are closed as he grips Akaashi’s backside for dear life. Akaashi sucks softly on the spot where his neck and shoulders meet. Bokuto lets out a small gasp and his hips jerk up.

“Found it.” Akaashi mumbles against his skin, tongue licking at every spot he’s made. Then, he slams their mouths together once more. Bokuto bends Akaashi backwards a bit and pulls Akaashi’s shirt from where it’s tucked inside his pants. Bokuto slips his hands under the shirt across smooth skin and Akaashi’s lips falter against Bokuto’s.

They stay like that for a while, Bokuto’s fingers ghosting over his nipples and Akaashi tugging at his hair, mouths never disconnecting. Akaashi tastes saltiness on his lips but chooses to brush it off. Bokuto, however, does not.

“Akaashi?” He mumbles. His lips are no longer on his but they’re dangerously close. Their noses are touching and Akaashi bats his eyes open. He’s met with bright gold ones. His vision is slightly blurred and oddly…wet.

“Why are you crying?” Bokuto’s thumbs brush against Akaashi’s cheeks. Sure enough he feels the tears fall from his eyes and down rosy cheeks.

Akaashi recoils and is quick to wipe at his eyes, moving away from Bokuto. He moves out of reach and deeper into the apartment. Bokuto’s footsteps are heavy behind him. “It’s nothing.” Akaashi finally says.

“People don’t cry for no reason.” Bokuto utters.

Akaashi sniffs and feels arms circle his waist from behind. Instinctively he leans into the touch, “I-I can’t… I’ve been ordered not to say anything. I’m sorry I kind of… used you just now. I’m just… overwhelmed.”

“I try not to ask because I know it’s a sensitive subject but did the Owl, ya know?” The sob that leaves Akaashi’s throat says it all. He turns around in Bokuto’s strong arms and breaks down into his chest.

One thing that Akaashi absolutely _hates_ is crying. He doesn’t do it often; in fact, he probably hasn’t cried since they lost his final game in high school. He especially hates crying in front of people. To cry in front of Bokuto is something that takes a lot of courage.

Bokuto’s hand soothes at his back and Akaashi digs his nails into Bokuto’s back. If it hurts the older man doesn’t show it and continues to stroke along his spine. He presses chaste kisses to the top of Akaashi’s head. “Is it personal?”

Akaashi really shouldn’t be talking. He had been ordered not to. But… “T-Terushima is dead.” Akaashi breathes into Bokuto’s chest, “That bastard killed him!” He shouts and Bokuto flinches, not used to the smaller raising his voice.

“Terushima?”

“My partner. He killed my fucking partner.” Akaashi wrenches away from Bokuto. Tears are still falling but he’s livid once more, “When I get my hands on that fucking asshole I’m gonna spin his neck around like he did to Terushima.”

Bokuto laughs uneasily. Akaashi turns from him and kicks at the wall, “Fuck. _Fuck!_ This is stupid. We let this go on too long. We have fucking _nothing_ on this bastard and he probably knows it too. Now he’s toying with us by killing one of our own, dangling it in front of our faces.” He wipes furiously at his face.

“You guys really have nothing?” Bokuto asks. His eyes are wide as he watches Akaashi break down. It’s quite a sight, considering Akaashi is usually so calm and composed.

Akaashi laughs bitterly. It’s an awful sound. “Jack _shit_. This guy is too good. No clues, no fucking _leads_. Everything is so scattered! All the victims are so _innocent_. When we think we’ve got something it just leads to nothing. It’s _bullshit_!”

Bokuto places a hand on his shoulder, looking slightly uncomfortable, “Akaashi, it’s okay…”

Akaashi shoves out of his grip, “It’s not okay. He’s killing people. This is twenty people now that are dead. And we can’t even stop him because we have nothing. Are we all bad at our jobs or something?” His vision is clouded with tears.

Bokuto hugs him tight, “No. Y’all are fantastic at your jobs. I know you’ll catch him soon especially after what he did to Terushima.” Akaashi’s breathing stutters and he leans his head on Bokuto’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. He wants to believe him but he has no hope for anything right now. They stand hugging for quite some time until Akaashi calms down enough.

“I need to get to work.” Akaashi mumbles head finally clear. In reality, he knows that he really doesn’t need to be at work for quite some time but he feels like he should be.

Bokuto nods and lets him go, “Why don’t you go wash up first?”

Akaashi heads off to the bathroom without a word. He turns the faucet on and splashes cool water on his face afterwards patting himself gently with a towel. He takes a deep breath and walks into the living room, seeing Bokuto examining the pictures on the wall. Bokuto excuses himself to the bathroom to fix his own hair, which was now slightly wilted from Akaashi’s incessant pulling. “Do you want me to drive you to work?” He asks once Bokuto emerges.  

He grins, “That’d be awesome! Thanks babe!” There's a slight limp in Bokuto's walk as they leave the apartment but if Akaashi notices he doesn't say a word.

Once Bokuto is dropped off and he’s at work, his mood falters. People are staring at him, giving him sympathetic looks. As he makes his way into the large office where he and the other agents are set up, he immediately wants to leave. They watch him intensely as he drapes his jacket over the back of his chair. Terushima’s desk next to him makes his chest tighten and he bites down on his cheek to stop the tears from flowing.

“Akaashi-san!” Lev’s voice rings out through the office. Akaashi meets piercing green eyes blankly. He can see Yaku’s stone cold face out of the corner of his eye. “You look awful, are you alright?”

Lev is on the ground in seconds. Yaku knocks his legs out from under him as hard as he can. Yaku’s teeth grind together and Akaashi thinks that he may snap his jaw from the motion. Akaashi is aware of somebody throwing a bunch of pens angrily at the Russian but he’s not sure who. His fingers tighten over the back of his chair and he stiffly responds, “Haiba-kun, I suggest that you keep your mouth shut if you don’t want any more pain.”

Lev blinks at him, searching for what Akaashi means. Yaku’s gaze is heavy on him and he wonders if the shorter man is going to kick him again. But he just collects himself and apologizes profusely with a bow, sitting in his seat swiftly.

Nobody else says a word after that, letting Akaashi sink into his chair with a sigh. He stares blankly at the screen of his computer, not bothering to turn it on. He fights his own subconscious desire to swivel in his chair and look over Terushima’s vacant desk.

None of the agents try to speak to him; they all whisper around him and type at their own desk. He stays like that until Iwaizumi calls for a meeting. When the Chief beckons them to the conference room they all pile inside, quietly taking seats. Iwaizumi stands at the head of the table with his arms crossed, sleeves pushed up his arms. Kuroo stands a little off to the side, eyes red and hands folded behind him.

Once everybody is seated Iwaizumi scans the room and heaves a sigh, “I’m sure you’ve all heard by now that last night one of our agents, Terushima Yuuji was murdered last night by the Owl. He was found this morning in his apartment…” Iwaizumi presses his fist to his lips before continuing, “Terushima was an extremely hard worker who wanted more than anything to catch this bastard. It’s… unfortunate that we had to lose him so soon. If any of you want to be taken off the case because of this, I completely understand.”

Akaashi knows the offer is directed at him and he maintains eye contact with Iwaizumi, not breaking. The man waits and then sighs, “We aren’t sure if he’ll come after somebody else here or if Terushima was just a coincidence. But I think it would be in everybody’s best interest if you stayed with somebody. That way if he does come then you all have a chance in defeating him and bringing him in.”

Iwaizumi bangs his knuckles on the table and his face contorts into a grimace. He seems to be done with the formal speech. “We need to stop fucking around. I don’t know what the hell we’ve been doing for the past five or whatever months but this is fucking ridiculous. This is our main priority right now; we’ll let the police deal with all the other bullshit. We’re going to work even harder than before to catch this asshole.” His voice is hard and firm. The agents nod in agreement.

Kuroo clears his throat and steps up closer next to Iwaizumi, “Chief Iwaizumi and I will be holding a press conference tonight. We’ll probably be dealing with a lot of backlash from the press and the city after this but we need you guys to stay strong and do your job. I have no doubts that…” His voice and everybody can see him bite down on his tongue before pulling himself together, “I have no doubts that if we all come together and seriously, _seriously_ come together we can bring justice for Yuuji and the nineteen other victims. Let’s not have a twenty-first victim.”

They all clap solemnly and are dismissed. Akaashi is the last to leave and Kuroo clamps down on his arm, stopping him, “Do you want the details about the scene?”

Akaashi hesitates, “If it’s just like any other scene then why should I need the details? Can’t I just look through his file?”

“Do you really want to learn about the details of your partner’s murder through some paperwork?” Kuroo’s tone is cold and Akaashi meets his eyes.

“I guess not.”

Kuroo nods, never taking his hand off Akaashi’s arm. “He put up a fight but I guess none of us really expected him not to. We found his pistol lying next to him and there’s a bullet missing from it. We can only assume that he shot the guy but…”

Akaashi leans forward a bit and presses, “But?”

“The Owl’s clever and bleached the entire scene. We’re going to test all the blood we found but there are no promises that there will be any other matches beside Terushima’s. We also couldn’t find his cell phone but we’re going to try and track it. No doubt the Owl took it for whatever fucking reason.”

Akaashi curses under his breath, “I’m just glad the idiot went down swinging.”

Kuroo actually laughs, “I wouldn’t expect anything else from him. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Owl is pretty banged up too.” Akaashi nods and a comfortable silence washes over them.

“Listen, I want you to stay with me and Kenma.” Kuroo states suddenly.

Akaashi stares at him, face falling. “I’ll be fine, Kuroo-san. You need to worry about Kenma-kun, not me.”

“He was your partner, Akaashi. Aren’t you a little worried about yourself?” Kuroo asks.

“If he comes into my apartment I’ll be ready,” Akaashi explains, “And… I can have Bokuto stay with me. He’s strong and can help me.”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow, “Just because he’s strong doesn’t mean he can protect you.”

Akaashi plucks the wild haired man’s hand from his arm, “I’m not staying with you. You worry about Kenma. I’ll worry about myself.” Then he walks from the room with Kuroo calling after him but he doesn’t care. He won’t let what happened to Terushima happen to him. He’s going to survive for Terushima and the nineteen other victims who were killed.

Akaashi doesn’t do work that day. He sits at his desk and stares at the monitor that he doesn’t turn on. He nearly has another breakdown when Lev comes over to him but thankfully Yaku drags him away before he can do any real damage. Suga comes in a few times to check on him and practically shoved lunch down his throat but otherwise everybody steers clear of him.

At the end of the day when he’s tugging his coat on he calls Bokuto.

“ _Hey hey hey Akaashi!_ ” Bokuto is as cheerful as ever, voice loud in Akaashi’s ear.

“Hello Bokuto-san.” He waves goodbye to Yaku and gives Lev a harsh glare before exiting the office.

“ _What’s up? Is everything okay? Nobody else is hurt right? You’re fine right?_ ” Bokuto sounds panicked and Akaashi’s heart does a flip because his boyfriend cares for the wellbeing of his friends as well as him. Akaashi can’t help but crack a smile.

“Everything’s fine, yes. I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight and possibly stay over…” When there’s no response on the other end Akaashi rushes to add, “My boss suggested that we not be alone at night now in case the Owl starts targeting us. And I figured if you’re with me and the Owl does attack me then we’ll have a better chance.” Akaashi chews his lip as he walks out into the chilly winter air.

Bokuto hums, “I’d love to stay over! Can you come pick me up at my apartment? I’ll get a bag together and stuff. And do you want anything? We could always get dinner on the way back to your place… Or I could cook for you! It’s really up to you!”

“I didn’t know you could cook, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto’s infectious laugh booms through the receiver, “I’ve been told that I can at least? Will you be my taste tester Akaashi?”

For some reason, Akaashi blushes, “I… Yes. I’m leaving now.” They say their goodbyes and Akaashi gets in his car to leave.

 

* * *

 

It turns out that Bokuto is in fact a skilled cook. They’re sitting on Akaashi’s couch now eating the food that Bokuto prepared, waiting for the press conference to air. Right now the news is showing an empty podium that is soon going to be occupied by Kuroo and Iwaizumi. Akaashi has his legs pulled to his chest, now clad in comfortable pajama pants.

“It’s so cool that Kuroo’s gonna be on TV,” Bokuto is saying, shoveling food into his mouth, “I mean, uh, it sucks because of the circumstances but TV is a big platform. All of Tokyo is gonna be watchin’ this!” His words are slightly muffled through the food.

Akaashi nods, “I guess it is pretty cool. But it’s going to look really bad for us in a way.”

“Why?” Bokuto stares at him puzzled, “Isn’t it good that you’re addressing the public?”

Akaashi sighs and places his bowl on the coffee table. He shuffles closer to Bokuto into the warmth of his side, “Yeah it is good but a lot of people will see this as us only caring now because one of our agents died. We did a press conference in the beginning but … we’ve let it get so out of hand.” He puts his face in his hands and Bokuto squeezes his shoulder affectionately.

“Come on, people won’t see it like that,” Bokuto reassures him and places a kiss into his curls, “Look Kuroo’s coming on stage!” He jostles Akaashi and points excitedly to the TV. “Oh shit he looks like a mess.”

Kuroo stands at the podium. His hair is slightly more awry than normal and his eyes are puffy, probably from crying. It says a lot about the situation because Kuroo _never_ cries. He had been the one to appoint Terushima to the agents and they had been quite close. Akaashi pulls his hands from his face as Kuroo begins to speak on the opposite side of the television.

“ _Good evening all, my name is Kuroo Tetsurou, I am a Sergeant for the FBI and police department here in Tokyo. This here_ ,” he motions to Iwaizumi, “ _is my boss, Iwaizumi Hajime, the head of the Special Agents department of the FBI and the leader of this case. Tonight we will be addressing the serial murders occurring in Tokyo by the one named ‘The Owl.’ We ask that you please hold your questions until the end._ ”

Kuroo shifts in front of the podium and Akaashi can immediately tell he’s nervous. He burrows himself into Bokuto’s side and Bokuto holds him close. “ _Last night between the hours of two and three in the morning the Owl committed his twentieth murder. We have identified this twentieth man as a Special Agent of the FBI, Terushima Yuuji. Terushima was twenty-eight years old and he was a bright light in the department. He did everything with vigor and…_ ” Kuroo’s voice begins to break and he clears his throat before going on, “ _He was an amazing addition to the special agents unit and was working very hard on this case when his life was brutally taken way too soon. He always had a smile on his face and was an optimist and a great friend. He really cared for the wellbeing of every citizen of Tokyo. We are all grieving in this time and our thoughts go out to his friends and family, as well as the families and friends of the nineteen other victims, in this difficult time. We are doing all we can to bring justice to those slain in this senseless violence._ ”

Akaashi sniffs. Terushima, although he had annoyed the shit out of him more than not, _was_ a great person and an amazing partner. Akaashi wishes that he could’ve said this more often to Terushima. He wishes he could’ve said many things differently to the twenty-eight year old.

“ _Chief Iwaizumi will now explain to you all our process in the Owl case. Thank you very much for your time._ ” Kuroo nods respectfully and steps down, switching places with Iwaizumi. Akaashi can see the chief give Kuroo a squeeze on the shoulder before he steps up to the podium. He has his sleeves rolled halfway up his arms and he looks pissed more than anything.

“ _Thank you Sergeant Kuroo for those words. My name is Iwaizumi Hajime and as stated previously I am the head of this case. All your questions should and will be directed at me and not at any of my agents, the police department or Sergeant Kuroo here._ ” There’s a menacing look in his eye and yup – Iwaizumi is pissed.

“ _As far as the Owl case goes, I promise every single one of you that we are all working tirelessly for the culprit. We_ will _find him or her. We are determined to not let this get past twenty victims. This has gone on far too long already. We… We are lacking a lot of information but we_ are _working with what we have, our agents going out and mulling over every little detail. If anybody has any information that they think can help us, even if it’s an inkling, your assistance will serve a greater justice to the city of Tokyo._ ”

Iwaizumi sucks in a deep breath before carrying on, “ _And to the Owl, who is no doubt listening._ ” The chief clenches his jaw and Akaashi thinks it may snap, “ _We will find you and we promise that your life will be a living hell when we get our hands on you. You have the blood of twenty innocent people on your hands. Twenty families are grieving because of you. We do not take the lightly_.” He straightens and fixes his tie, “ _Questions_?”

The press in the audience starts shouting questions at Iwaizumi and Bokuto chuckles, “Kuroo spoke very eloquently. I didn’t know the dude had it in him.”

Akaashi huffs, ignoring the fact that Bokuto had used a word such as ‘eloquently,’ “He isn’t a sergeant for no reason. But Iwaizumi is so stupid threatening the Owl like that. Doesn’t he know that’s just going to egg the fucker on?”

Bokuto shifts next to him, “I don’t think you should call your boss stupid.”

“He can’t hear me,” is Akaashi’s quick response and Bokuto hoots in laughter.

As Akaashi predicts, one of the reporters asks Iwaizumi why they chose to do a press conference when one of the agents got murdered and not before this. Iwaizumi looks uncomfortable before answering, “ _We see this as a personal attack on our unit. However, we’ve seen all of these murders as an attack on our city. We chose to do this after the murder of Agent Terushima because we’ve reached twenty victims. This needs to end and we need help from the people of this city to aid us in catching this criminal._ ”

“We’re going to get slammed in the papers,” Akaashi shakes his head. Bokuto runs his fingers through Akaashi’s curls.

“I think you’re over thinking things.”

Akaashi shoves his elbow into Bokuto’s side and the older man pouts. Akaashi drowns out his whines, too worried about the press conference at hand to respond.

 

* * *

 

The funeral comes four days later, on Sunday. Akaashi asks Bokuto to attend and has to reassure the older man that it’s alright if he comes. Akaashi just really wants the support of somebody who isn’t grieving, somebody who can pick him up when he’s down.

He stands wedged between Kenma and Bokuto as the casket is lowered into the ground. It was closed casket of course and incredibly sad. Akaashi stands stone faced as he watches the casket begin to get covered with soil. He almost looks away, not wanting to watch his friend and partner get buried, but he knows it would be disrespectful.

When the funeral is over most people disband, Terushima’s family the only ones lingering behind. Akaashi stays to speak with them for a few moments, telling them how much Terushima loved his job and people in general. Then he was joining Kuroo, Kenma and Bokuto as they went to grab lunch.

“Seeing his mom break down like that, damn…” Kuroo mumbles, shoving a piece of steak into his mouth. He shakes his head, “It’s really fucked up. This whole thing is fucked up. Terushima was such a good guy. Just… down to Earth and _real_.”

“You’ve said the same thing over and over again,” Kenma says quietly. He examines Bokuto discreetly through his hair and Bokuto catches on, shifting uncomfortably next to Akaashi. Akaashi is oblivious to it all, eating his meal slowly.

Kuroo sips his drink and then looks at Bokuto, “What do you think of all this?”

Bokuto’s big eyes snap towards the messy haired cat, “Huh?”

A lazy smile falls onto Kuroo’s face, “Damn you’re really out of it bro. I asked what you think about all of this, you know like the murders and Terushima and all.”

Bokuto’s face is unreadable for a moment as they all turn to stare at him. Then he shrugs, “Oh you know, like you said, it’s really fucked up. It’s hard to, um, wrap my head around really. I’ve only met Terushima like… twice or something? But he seemed like a cool dude, it’s a shame…” He is mumbling by the end of it and Akaashi gives him a concerned look before turning back to his food.

Kenma is gazing at him harder than before.

Bokuto tries not to let it distract him but he becomes antsy next to Akaashi, stealing glances at the faux blonde every few minutes. It seems as if Kenma’s eyes never leave him. He tries to engage with Kuroo but Kuroo dominates the conversation. Akaashi nudges him to make sure he’s okay and he feigns happiness.

“I just hope we can get _something_ ,” Akaashi sighs and places his chopsticks down to comb his fingers through his hair.

“There’s probably so much we’re missing,” Kuroo joins him in sighing, “But we’ll get it.”

Kenma blinks, “We just have to look more closely.” He says the words to Bokuto, who now avoids his gaze.

Akaashi and Kuroo nod in agreement.

 

* * *

 

Later that night when they’re tucked into bed, Kenma reaches out a small hand to poke Kuroo in the back. Kuroo grunts but doesn’t roll over to look at him. Kenma jabs him harder, this time in the base of his spine.

“What is it kitten?” Kuroo grumbles into the pillow.

“What do you think of Bokuto?” Kenma asks. His hair is splayed out all across the pillow. Kuroo turns his head to give him a suspicious look.

“I think he’s great. He’s really cool and funny. Plus, Akaashi seems much happier. He smiles more. Isn’t that what we’ve wanted for him since the last guy?”

“Yeah I just…” Kenma moves his gaze off to the side.

Kuroo sighs and drapes an arm across Kenma’s frail waist, tugging him closer. He presses a kiss to his forehead, “Stop babying him. He can make his own decisions. Bokuto’s great. Now go to sleep.” He gives him a chaste kiss to the lips before burrowing his face in the pillow again, his arm still around Kenma protectively.

Kenma wants to say something but doesn’t. He listens to the even breathing of his lover, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.


	6. No. 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A development in the case and the relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I considered posting this chapter early because the response on the last chapter was so awesome (thanks guys!) but waited it out. I might change the updating schedule but I go back to school Saturday and my only free day is going to be Wednesdays which is why I update Wednesdays so we'll see....  
> Also, I finished writing for this! So it is confirmed to be fourteen chapters, but I might make a bonus fifteenth chapter for... reasons.  
> But yeah it gets lit.  
> Thank you so much for all your comments, kudos, and concerns ;) keep them coming, seriously I love to hear your predictions and thoughts they really warm my heart and make my day!  
> Also **warning** for this chapter: _there's smut_ It's at the end in case any of you wanted to skip over it! It starts with _They sit like this for a while_ and pretty much goes until the end of the chapter!

The warmth spreads through his chest. He’s confused. He’s never felt this way before. What is this feeling? He’s been so confused and _warm_ that he hasn’t killed in over a month. He doesn’t feel the need to.

But he still wants to play with FBI, so giving them a hoop to jump through sounds fun.

“Alright I think I can do this.” The voice hisses through the burner phone.

The man hums and props his feet onto his coffee table. It’s still early, too early for the kill to come. “Remember what I said alright? Go in quietly and when you’re done, leave the front door open.”

“Yeah, yeah I gotcha. I’ll make sure it’s a good one for you.” The line goes dead and the man takes a sip of his water.

He trusts his cohort with everything in him. He imagines him slicing open the newest victim, following all the rules he’s given him. This man is smart enough to not get himself caught, which is why the Owl trusts him so much.

Well, he doesn’t trust anybody, but he has enough confidence that this one will do a good job.

Snakes are sneaky after all.

 

* * *

 

A month and a half passes after Terushima’s funeral. It’s almost March and work is slow and they’re still not making any progress. Every agent is frustrated and more irritable. Terushima’s desk remains untouched, motivating them and angering them all at once. Akaashi almost loses his cool one day at work and Kuroo sends him home before he breaks somebody or something.

Bokuto stays with him every night. They curl up in the middle of the bed, Bokuto’s rough, calloused hands trailing circles into the skin of his back. He always presses his face deep into his broad chest, inhaling his scent. He feels safe in Bokuto’s arm.

Their relationship improves steadily as well. Akaashi learns that Bokuto’s father passed away when he was very young and that he has an older sister who works for the government. He and his sister don’t speak often, her disapproving of the way he lives his life. His mother has no problems with Bokuto’s sexuality, however, and the one time Akaashi speaks to her on the phone she is very kind and almost as enthusiastic as her son. Akaashi can see where he gets it from.

Akaashi also learns out that Bokuto got in trouble a lot while in school which does not surprise him in the slightest. He would play jokes on his classmates and sensei, one instance almost getting him kicked off the volleyball team. Akaashi had begged him to tell him why but Bokuto refused with big eyes and furious shaking of his head.

He never talks about college though, which Akaashi finds strange but doesn’t push.

Akaashi wakes one morning to the familiar droning of his cell phone ringing. Trying his best not to disturb Bokuto, whose arm is wrapped securely around his waist, he reaches for his phone. He pulls it from the chord as he always does and opens the call, “Akaashi Keiji.” He steals a glance at Bokuto, whose nose twitches in his sleep.

“I need you down here immediately.” Kuroo’s voice fills his ears. He sounds desperate and slightly panicked.

Akaashi glimpses at the alarm clock. It’s almost eight, the time when his alarm would soon be going off, “What’s the matter Kuroo-san? Is it another murder?”

Kuroo exhales loudly, “Yes. But this is different. I need you at the station in a half hour.”

“You don’t want me to come to the scene?” He shifts warily in Bokuto’s arms. The man hums in his sleep.

“No. Sawamura and Azumane are down here with me. Can you just, please get to the station in a half hour?” His voice is filled with exasperation that kills any argument lying on Akaashi’s tongue.

“Yeah sure…” Kuroo hangs up without a goodbye and Akaashi stares dumbfounded at his phone for a minute. He places it beside him and maneuvers his way out of Bokuto’s arms and over to his closet. He strips from his pajamas silently and pulls on some slacks, beginning to button up a shirt over his torso.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto grumbles from behind him. He turns to find the man rubbing at his golden eyes, staring at him tiredly. Affection swells in Akaashi’s chest. Bokuto is completely vulnerable right now, looking at him through tired lids. His hair is down, loops of silver and white hugging just above his eyes and curling above his ears. He’s adorable.

Akaashi smiles softly, “Good morning Bokuto-san. I’ve been called into work.”

Bokuto’s eyes widen, “Was it another murder?”

Akaashi hesitates before answering, “I think so. Kuroo-san sounded… distraught and demanded I come in so I have to hurry.” Bokuto nods and sits up, stretching his thick arms above his head. Akaashi has to drag his eye away from the twitching muscles of his abdomen, focusing on buttoning his shirt once more.

The bed groans as Bokuto rises. He pads over to the dresser (where Akaashi had kindly cleared a drawer for him) and pulls a plain blue shirt over his head. He grabs a pair of jeans and slips them up and over strong thighs. Akaashi finds himself staring again through his lashes.

A nag in Akaashi’s chest makes him think that their relationship is moving too fast. But it all feels so _right_ that Akaashi doesn’t care how fast they move. He’s never smiled this much in his life. He used to get bullied for never smiling and he wishes he can shove his grins into the faces of those bullies.

They’re both in the car ten minutes later, to-go cups of coffee warm in the cup holders of Akaashi’s car. Bokuto sings loudly to the radio and Akaashi shakes his head, gripping the steering wheel. “Come on, Akaash! Sing with me.” He jabs his finger into Akaashi’s side and sings just a hint louder.

Akaashi bites his lip and keeps his eyes fixed on the road. He can see Bokuto flailing in the passenger’s seat from the corner of his eye and tries to ignore it. But Bokuto is so _adorable_ that he finds himself mumbling the words to the song playing under his breath.

Bokuto hoots in triumph when he notices, “I got you to sing! See! I really am the best!” Then he continues his boisterous singing, red tinting Akaashi’s cheeks as he turns the corner.

Soon he’s pulling up to the construction site Bokuto has been working at for months. He parks the car and turns to his boyfriend, turning the music down. “Have a good day,” he says softly.

Bokuto leans over the console and presses a firm kiss against Akaashi’s lips. It’s chaste but still warm and Akaashi’s stomach flips. He wants to deepen it but he’s met with Bokuto’s beaming grin all too soon, “You too! I’ll see you tonight!” He pecks Akaashi’s lips again before bolting out of the car, the door slamming so hard it rocks the vehicle.

Akaashi pulls away with a happy sigh and the drive to work is silent save the low rumble of the radio.

Akaashi is a greeted with a “Sergeant’s looking from you” by Konoha when he walks in. His eye brows rise as he drapes his jacket over the back of his chair.

“Where is he?” It is too early to deal with these troubles.

“Conference room with Sawamura,” Konoha huffs, “It’s not pretty.”

“Great.” Akaashi mumbles, stepping from the room. The walk to the conference room is short and he opens it, looking at the two men peering at something. Daichi looks up and nods at him.

“Akaashi.”

“Sawamura-san.” Akaashi crosses over to them, staring at Kuroo, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now? You sounded… overwhelmed on the phone earlier.”

“I just… fuck just look at these.” Kuroo thrusts a set of photos at Akaashi who takes them uneasily. He can see that Kuroo’s hands are trembling when he takes them. Not a good sign. His hazel eyes slowly shuffle through them, analyzing each carefully. His heart begins to hammer in his chest as he looks through each photo. When he gets to last photo he runs his hands over his face.

Finally, he speaks low, “So. What does this mean?”

Kuroo snatches the photos from his hands and grunts, “Fuck if I know. Iwaizumi’s gonna be pissed.”

Daichi stares at him, “You still haven’t spoken to him?”

Kuroo cackles, tone chilly. “He’s going to completely flip the fuck out. I’m not ready to deal with that. Plus we just got here and I didn’t have time.” He tugs on his unruly locks clearly stressed.

“Kuroo-san, you can’t just keep this from him,” Akaashi begins. He’s on edge. “We could be dealing with _two_ serial killers now. You need to tell him. Immediately.”

“I know! He’s going to want to hold another press conference and I really don’t want to do that.” Kuroo almost whines it and Akaashi rolls his eyes. He sucks in a breath, “But fuck. This is just getting worse. We can’t catch one how the fuck are we going to catch two?”

Akaashi holds his hands out for the photos. They’re in his hands once more and he spreads them out against the table, “Luckily, this guy is much sloppier than the Owl. He didn’t notice that he left bloody shoe marks across the floor. If we do a complete DNA sweep of the apartment, we may be able to find some that does not belong to our victim. A hair or a skin cell may be present.” His eyes wander to the photo of the victim.

The state of the victim is what gives away that it is not the Owl who did this.

First, the body was still in the bed where it was found early that morning. The blood soaked into the mattress and dripped across the floor, ugly stains of crimson on the sheets. Second, the head was not spun around. Instead, the mouth was pried open and the tongue was cut out of the body, lazily thrown to the floor, mouth slit to the ears. An obscene amount of blood looked as if it had bubbled from the mouth of the victim. Akaashi couldn’t understand how they thought it would be a good idea to bring Asahi onto this crime sight but he didn’t ask.

Lastly, the eyes.

They were not shot out. Instead, they were sliced open.

It almost resembled a snake.

Akaashi points to the picture of the victim’s face, “They are really riding this animal thing I see.”

Daichi scoffs, “They’re playing with us. It’s annoying. It’s disgusting.”

Kuroo grunts and gathers the photos again, “I’m going to show these to Iwaizumi. Please pray for me.”

“Not a chance.” Akaashi deadpans. Daichi chuckles but doesn’t offer a prayer either. Kuroo shoots them the middle finger before strutting from the room. Akaashi leans against the table and crosses one ankle over the other, “Do you think we can do this, Sawamura-san?”

Daichi runs his fingers through his short hair and heaves a sigh, “Not with what we have now which is basically nothing. We keep going through everything. These murders are random. There’s no gender bias, no job bias, nothing. The only constant is that he does it at night. That’s it.”

Akaashi groans, “I know. This is all so frustrating.” Daichi slaps him on the back in silent agreement. They depart from the room without uttering a word, tension from the case lingering between them.

 

* * *

 

Kenma eyes Akaashi inquisitively during lunch, “Was Bokuto with you all night last night?”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, caught off guard by the question, “Yes he was. Why? Is there a reason he wouldn’t be?”

Kenma stares at him, yellow eyes unblinking. Then he shakes his head, strands of faux blonde hair whipping around his face, “No. Sorry I asked.” He nibbles on his sandwich, avoiding Akaashi’s gaze. Akaashi continues to stare at him for a moment before stabbing into his salad again.

Akaashi gets the feeling that Kenma doesn’t like Bokuto but has never outwardly confronted him about it. It isn’t Kenma’s place to dislike his boyfriend anyway and Akaashi doesn’t want to create a rift between them; Kenma is his best friend and he doesn’t want to ruin it over something so dumb. So, Akaashi just stabs at his salad and disregards the conversation.

It’s quiet between them; the only sound is the crunching of lettuce as Akaashi’s fork pierces through it. He can feel Kenma’s eyes watching him at moments but when he meets them they’re quick to turn away. There are words at the tip of his tongue but he does not dare speak them.

Luckily, Kuroo heavily drops into the chair beside Kenma’s with a sigh, tray of sushi sitting in front of him. Kuroo kisses Kenma’s temple before opening the package and immediately shoving a whole piece in his mouth. “Can you help me convince Iwaizumi to not do a press conference tonight?” He gestures to Akaashi with his chopsticks. His words are muffled around the piece of sushi he chews.

Akaashi eyes him, disgusted, “There’s no convincing Iwaizumi of doing something different when he has his eyes set on something else.”

Kuroo groans and swallow, taking a sip of water, “Fuck. I really don’t want to. I hate the reporters and the lights. It’s all too much. And then you have to tell everybody that now there are _two_ serial killers and we have no leads whatsoever, _again_. The public hates us and they’re going to hate us even more after this.”

“We’re working as hard as we can.” Akaashi said softly.

“But they don’t know that! They’re just going to blame us forever and ever. Like fuck.” Kuroo groans as he shoves another piece of sushi in his mouth. Kenma eyes him but doesn’t say anything about eating politely. “I just want to know why I’m the one who has to do the conferences with Iwaizumi.”

“Because you’re the sergeant.” Akaashi clarifies. Kuroo only glares and shakes his head.

“I don’t want to be if it means I have to do press conferences.”

“You know for somebody who loves attention you sure are whining about it when you’re going to get it.” Akaashi says simply.

Kuroo gasps, “I do not need your sass, Akaashi. I don’t like _negative_ attention. Plus it’s too soon for another press conference.”

“It’s been a month.” Kenma says.

Akaashi nods, “Plus we’re obligated to let the public know about any big news regarding the case.”

Kuroo drops his forehead to the table and groans, “Fuck that honestly. Nothing I do or say is going to get me out of it.”

“Then stop bitching.” Kenma says. Akaashi chuckles softly and finishes his salad. Kuroo gapes at his boyfriend, surprised by the brazenness of his statement. Akaashi stands and throws out the empty container, waving goodbye to his friends. When Kuroo had started pestering Kenma and Kenma had commented on how embarrassing he was, Akaashi knew that was his cue to leave.

The rest of his day is filled with endless paper work and trying to find possible suspects. None come up though because none of the murders are linked. And now, there’s the presence of a new murderer and it really threw everybody through a loop. By the end of the day Akaashi can see how haggard his coworkers look. Purple bags hang heavy under each of their eyes and stress lines their faces. They’re all so tired of this.

When Akaashi gets back to his apartment Bokuto is already there, whistling in the kitchen and cooking dinner. He had the spare key now since Akaashi had given it to him. He didn’t stay over every night but most nights he was there.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto’s loud voice echoes through the small apartment. Akaashi toes his shoes off and pads into the kitchen, pressing a chaste kiss to Bokuto’s cheek.

“Hello Bokuto-san.” He looks down into the pot sitting on the burner of the stove, “Rice?”

Bokuto grins and wraps an arm around Akaashi’s waist, tugging him close, “Yeah. You don’t really have a lot of things here besides vegetables and rice… Not that I mind, just uh… I heard there was a press conference tonight.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, wondering what Bokuto was planning on saying before he changed topics. But he let it go, not one to dwell on things for too long unless it was work related of course. “Yeah. We think there are two serial killers now. Kuroo doesn’t think we should tell the public because it will just instill even more fear but we can’t just _not_ warn people.”

Bokuto blinks, eyes growing wide, “There are two now?”

Akaashi sighs and maneuvers out of his boyfriend’s grip to lean his back on the counter. He fists the material of his shirt into his palm, “Yes, possibly. The murder from this morning was different than all the others. So, either there are two or the original is changing his game to throw us off our already narrow course.”

Bokuto nods thoughtfully, “And you still have no suspects.”

Akaashi exhales and slowly shakes his head, “Nope. So many people are dead and… we have nothing. It’s pathetic but we can’t just bring innocent people in and lock them up because it’ll all just continue.”

“I’m sure you guys are doing everything you can do to solve this shit. Why don’t you change and then we can wait for the press conference to start?”

Akaashi nods and disappears into the bedroom, stripping his suit off gracefully. He opts to shrug into a loose shirt and pair of sweatpants, rolling on a pair of fresh socks afterwards. He could smell the food wafting from the kitchen and it honestly smelled really good. Despite Bokuto being so goofy, he was surprisingly very domestic. He likes to clean and cook despite his demeanor being messy.

Akaashi walks to the kitchen again and watches in the archway as Bokuto hums to himself. He works carefully and despite being so large and _loud_ , he works quietly. Bokuto blinks and looks over at Akaashi, “Everything alright?”

Akaashi waves his hand dismissively, “Yeah, just thinking.”

Bokuto smiles and serves the food into bowls, “As long as you’re alright.” They decide to sit on the couch and eat while they watch the press conference. Kuroo looks significantly better than he did at the press conference a month ago. He only says a few words before turning it over to Iwaizumi, who explains that they have determined the possibility of there being two killers. The reporters start shouting questions and Iwaizumi gets visibly angry.

“Does he always look like that?” Bokuto asks, mouth full of food.

“Angry?”

“Mhm.”

“Yes. Iwaizumi-san is, um, very stressed all the time. Plus his husband is a… character so it adds to his stress.”

Bokuto laughs, “Is everybody in the FBI gay? Kuroo is, you are, this Iwaizumi guys is…”

Akaashi chuckles and sets his bowl and chopsticks on the coffee table neatly, “I think so. Sugawara-san is dating Sawamura-san, another agent in my field. Sawamura-san’s partner is, I believe, with the psychologist. We really are all gay…”

Bokuto laughs louder and shakes his head, “That’s pretty cool though. There’s no room for discrimination then. There’s some pretty homophobic assholes in the construction business.”

Akaashi looks at him, “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto shakes his head and drops a heavy arm around Akaashi’s shoulder, tugging him closer so they were sharing body heat. Akaashi willingly leans into him. “I don’t care. No amount of bigoted comments is going to change who I am.” Akaashi nods and rests his head on Bokuto’s shoulder, Bokuto’s thick fingers carding through his hair gently.

They sit like this for a while, Akaashi leaning on him as Bokuto plays with his hair. However, Akaashi begins to get restless as the press conference comes to a close and the regular news plays afterwards. He drags his fingers lightly over Bokuto’s clothed thigh, feeling the muscles tense slightly. Bokuto does not make to move his fingers so he continues to rub his fingers over him, each upwards stroke growing closer to his crotch.

Akaashi feels Bokuto cup his chin and tilt his head towards him. Akaashi gazes at him through his lashes and then Bokuto’s mouth his on his, smooth and languid. It is all lips and no tongue, but neither mind. Somehow Akaashi maneuvers himself so he is straddling Bokuto’s lap and his fingers tease at the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck. Their lips still move together methodically, passionately and Bokuto tucks his hands under Akaashi’s knees after turning the TV off.

As if it’s no problem at all, he stands up, Akaashi’s yelping against his lips. He is way too old to be carried to the bedroom but he just wraps his legs tighter around Bokuto, ankles locking behind his back and thighs pressing tightly against hips. His arms tightly around his neck but not enough to be uncomfortable. Bokuto lowers him to the mattress and Akaashi moves so he’s against the pillows.

Bokuto crawls over him, slow, and they stare at each other for a moment. Akaashi curls his fingers around the back of Bokuto’s neck and brings their lips together once more, tugging Bokuto fully on top of him to flush his body against his. Bokuto moans low into his mouth and Akaashi takes the opportunity to, finally, breach between his parted lips. His tongue his familiar with the inside of Bokuto’s mouth, them making out way too often for two men in their late thirties. It’s like they are in high school again driven by teenage hormones. But being with Bokuto is exhilarating, his passion awakening something in Akaashi that he had suppressed for over a year.

Akaashi’s breathing stutters against Bokuto’s lips as the older man grinds down into him. He’s already starting to get hard, just from kissing, and he can feel Bokuto through his sweatpants against him. Bokuto grinds a little harder when Akaashi doesn’t protest and his hands snake up under the sides of his shirt. Akaashi’s breath hitches in his throat as he glides his tongue over the front of Bokuto’s teeth.

Akaashi pulls away when Bokuto thumbs at his nipple, “B-Bokuto-san.” His hips lift off the bed, rutting into Bokuto’s.

Bokuto dips his face between Akaashi’s neck and shoulder, “Is this okay?” He takes the nipple he’s toying with and pinches it between his thumb and forefinger. Akaashi gasps and arches his back slightly, ankle running along the outside of Bokuto’s leg as it hikes up.

“Yes,” Akaashi says softly and hums as Bokuto kisses along his neck, their hips swiveling about together. Akaashi is fully hard now, the stimulation against his nipples bringing him to full mast. He tips his head back as Bokuto brings his other hand to the collar of Akaashi’s shirt so he can bite into his collar bone. He sucks gently and Akaashi brings his fingers to Bokuto’s hair.

Eventually their mouths slot together again as their grinding gets rough. Bokuto grips on Akaashi’s waistband and pulls back to ask him for permission but Akaashi’s only bringing their lips together again. He curls his fingers around Bokuto’s and tugs his pants halfway down his thighs, his boxers going with them. He does the same to Bokuto.

Their bare erections brush together and they both shiver. Akaashi stretches and reaches into the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube. It’s mostly full, Akaashi having no reason to use it since he was not having any guests before Bokuto. Said man cocks an eyebrow and smirks, “Ohoho?”

Akaashi suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, Kuroo swimming into his mind. He makes a mental note to get them to stop texting each other or hanging out frequently and then bats the pain in the ass out of his thoughts. “We are not having sex Bokuto-san.” He pours a generous amount of lube into his palm and then wraps his hand around both of their erections, slicking them up.

Bokuto grunts in surprise while Akaashi shivers at the feeling of their cocks rubbing against each other. Akaashi tests out some grips, making sure that Bokuto is comfortable, before slowly pumping his fist. Bokuto’s lips are wet and drag along Akaashi’s skin as Akaashi jerks them, moaning softly when Akaashi’s thumb grazes over the head.

The room is hot and they’re both beginning to get a bit sweaty, but Bokuto doesn’t mind because Akaashi’s hand feels _so good_ on his dick. He’s going slow, a little too slow, but the way he squeezes and curls his fingers around their throbbing shafts it too pleasurable.

Akaashi does not notice Bokuto reaching for the lube and soon Bokuto’s hand is joining his. With some coaxing he removes his hand, letting Bokuto fully take control. He places his slick hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, the other threading through his hair. “B-Bokuto-san.” Akaashi moans softly as Bokuto twists his wrists over their cocks.

Bokuto chuckles and kisses across his neck, fist pumping, “Feel good?”

Akaashi groans in response as Bokuto teases the underside of the head. That spot is particularly sensitive for Akaashi. Bokuto smirks and presses his thumb there as he continues to jerk them. He tightens is grip and flicks his wrist, sucking on Akaashi’s collarbone lightly. The only sounds in the room are Akaashi’s breathy moans and the schlucking sound of Bokuto’s hand moving over their erections.

As Akaashi grows closer to orgasm, he’s completely blindsided when Bokuto crawls down and swallows his cock whole. Akaashi tilts his head back and lets out his loudest moan yet, cumming on the spot as Bokuto’s cock twitches against the slit. Bokuto continues sucking him down as he rides out his orgasm, cum sliding down Bokuto’s throat.

Akaashi pants and grips Bokuto’s hair, the normal horned look drooping under the weight of his hand. He blinks down at him, chest rising, “You swallowed.”

Bokuto comes up for air and looks a bit sheepish as he wipes the back of his mouth with his clean hand, “Yeah.” He kisses Akaashi’s trembling thighs and pulls both of their clothes over their deflating cocks, lying back down next to Akaashi.

“Did you…?”

Bokuto holds up the hand he was jerking himself off with and it glistens with cum. Akaashi scrunches his nose up, “Go clean up.”

Bokuto grins and bounds out of the bed, disappearing out of the room. He pokes his head back in a second later, “You might want to change the sheets.” And then the bathroom door closes down the hall and Akaashi grunts. He strips the sheets, standing on shaky legs and changes them while waiting for a turn in the bathroom.

Once they’re all settled, Akaashi cuddles into Bokuto’s chest, eyelids drooping. Bokuto squeezes his shoulder affectionately. “You’re surprisingly loud in bed.”

Akaashi smacks him playfully, “Go to sleep Bokuto-san.” And they do.


	7. Nos. 22, 23, 24, & 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I always reread the chapters before I post them and make last minute changes and stuff and I was rereading it and getting really excited and hype for y'all to read it. This is another one of my favorite chapters and it's really kind of important ;) Also we're halfway done woo!!!  
> Also, my laptop is like... halfway breaking so if there's not an update next Wednesday then that's why. If I move the screen back or forward a certain amount the screen will start to fade to white and it's very obnoxious and I don't have time for this.  
> Enjoy this chapter!

“I can’t do this.” The Snake hisses through the receiver, two months later. They had calculated a perfect time to synchronize a kill and their plan is finally going through.

The Owl stands above his victim, already done with his kill. The blood begins to pool under the body and rivers of maroon liquid travel across the wood in numerous directions. He watches intensely and it’s like a dance to avoid them. The blood travels fast, black in the moonlit apartment.

“Why not?” He huffs in a whisper. He slowly backs across the living room.

“There are children in there! I’m not as fucked up as you. I can’t fucking kill ki-“

“You said you would do anything for me right?” The Owl interrupts. He wipes his blade across his black sweatshirt. His sleeves are already damp with blood.

“I… I guess I did.”

“Then you _will_ do this. If you pussy out, you’re going to be the next one the FBI finds, you got me?” His voice is gravely and low. “And I’ll make sure that you’re a pretty little piece of art for them.”

The Snake sucks in a breath, “I got you.” His voice is tight with venom.

“Make me proud and give the FBI something fun to find.” He hangs up and drops the phone in his pocket.

He leaves the apartment the same way he comes in: through the front door.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi wakes to the sound of his phone ringing. It’s been two months since he’s woken up like this, to the sound of the phone ringing and to an empty bed. The latter was more recent, as Bokuto had finally started sleeping at his own apartment again around two weeks ago with the threat of the Owl dying down for the time being.

Now, Akaashi’s heart is racing as he presses the phone to his ear, “Akaashi Keiji.”

“ _Fuck! I’m so sick of this shit!”_ Kuroo yells through the phone. Akaashi blinks, still a bit drowsy.

“What’s wrong, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asks gently, toying with the fabric of the sheets.

“ _Another child_ ,” Kuroo sneers and Akaashi hears the faint sound of pounding. He imagines Kuroo beating the wall with his fist or his foot, teeth grinding against each other. “ _And get this, there are two separate murders_.”

Akaashi furrows his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“ _I mean_ ,” Kuroo grits, “ _that there are two separate murders on opposite sides of the city._ _I mean now we know for sure that there are two separate killers because of the distinct… styles but_ fuck. _Fuck! I just… this is getting out of hand Akaashi._ ”

“Kuroo-san, you know as well as I do that we’ve interviewed probably hundreds of people. They all say the same thing. There is no one among our weak suspect list that could have done this.”

“ _You don’t think I know that?! This is so fucking frustrating! Kids, Akaashi. More fucking kids. More men and women who are fucking dead because of fucking assholes who are fucking wrecking havoc all over fucking Tokyo!!_ ”

“Calm down, you’re supposed to be professional.”

“ _To hell with being fucking professional! Fuck this honestly._ ”

“Do you need me to come down there Kuroo-san?”

“ _I need you at the office with Konoha and Sarukui. The other four are spread out._ ”

“Why do you keep sending Azumane-san out when you know he’ll probably pass out on site?”

“ _Because I don’t want to burden you more than I already have._ ”

Akaashi lets out an exasperated sigh, “Are you kidding me? It’s my job, Tetsurou. I’d do it if you asked me to. Plus I was the first one assigned to this case the least you could do is actually let me come-”

“ _Akaashi I already said… Whatever I sent some information to them so could you just help them out please? God knows what the fuck they’re doing alone._ ”

“It wouldn’t be any better if Haiba-kun were with them.” Kuroo actually laughs at that and agrees. They exchange a few more words before hanging up. Akaashi sighs and goes through his morning routine, showering quickly before getting a suit on. He ties the tie and tightens it, not tight enough to choke him though. He texts Bokuto that he won’t be able to make the coffee run this morning and settles for a home brewed cup, drinking it quickly before going down to the office to make sure Konoha and Sarukui aren’t messing around.

When he gets there the two are playing rock-paper-scissors for whatever reason and Akaashi just stares at them blankly before they notice him. The two clear their throats and straighten, turning back to their computers. They give him a bunch of names, most likely names that Kuroo and whoever is at the other site managed to acquire from ID found on site.

He runs the names through the directory, scanning them for any former charges. None come up, making it even harder for them, once again, to determine a motive. Konoha and Sarukui are not much help so Akaashi advises them to work on other minor cases while he deals with this. They shrug and agree, the harder work load taken off their shoulders.

Lev saunters in about an hour later. Akaashi looks around him for Yaku but doesn’t see him and just turns back to his computer. He searches for any kind of information about the victims but cannot seem to find any besides the basics he needs to contact family.

Akaashi feels a tap on his shoulder looks up into the face of Yaku. Yaku lifts the corner of his mouth in a half smile and holds out a series of pictures. Some of the papers are still warm in his hand, indicating that they had just been pulled from the printer. Akaashi squeamishly looks over them, brushing over the pictures of the mangled child.

“I don’t understand how they can get away with something like this,” Akaashi mumbles to himself, staring at a picture of a woman. Her neck is spun around, clearly a victim of the Owl.

“It’s crazy,” Yaku says softly. “It’s unfair. Though, I hope if we catch one then we can ultimately catch the other.”

Akaashi nods, “Yes, I hope so too.”

The day passes uneventfully besides from the analyzing of the murders. Akaashi pays a visit to Analytics where he finds Yamaguchi regarding Tsukishima nervously as he toys with a yo-yo. Where he got a yo-yo is news to Akaashi and he is less than pleased to see neither of the two doing actual work. But, when are they ever? Yamaguchi just stares at Tsukishima all day like a lost puppy while the latter plays games on his computer.

Akaashi leaves at the end of the day with Kenma and Kuroo in tow, deciding to go for some food and drinks. Bokuto had agreed to meet them there after washing up back at his apartment and they all arrived at the perfect time. After getting a table they all settle comfortably.

“Rough day?” Bokuto asks, regarding them all curiously. Kenma watches him closely as Akaashi nods and Kuroo smacks his hand on the table.

“Yeah, it was a rough fucking day but nothing some sake can’t fix.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Bokuto who laughs.

“Ohoho I like the way you think my dude.” Bokuto fists bumps him and they order sake, Kenma asking for some water. They order their food before settling in again.

“Two murders across the fucking city,” Kuroo is saying as he sips the sake, “Like, who fucking does that?! It’s ridiculous. I want to abandon this case I’m so fucking frustrated.”

“Oh come on! You’ll get it eventually. Just gotta keep lookin’,” Bokuto encourages. Akaashi sighs beside him.

“We’ve searched and searched and there is nothing, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi says. Kenma eyes him harshly but doesn’t say a word.

Bokuto frowns and looks at them all, “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Staying alive helps,” Kuroo laughs softly. There’s already a soft blush on his cheeks from the alcohol. Bokuto grins, “I plan on it.”

Kenma shifts uncomfortably besides Kuroo, “Bokuto, did you stay at Akaashi’s last night?”

Bokuto stills as he turns his gaze on Kenma, the smile slipping from his face. “Um, no I haven’t slept at his place in a couple weeks. Is that a problem?”

Kenma shakes his head, “Not at all I was just… wondering…” He averts his eyes and hides behind his glass of water he is gripping in his hands.

Kuroo laughs and drapes an arm around Kenma, “Don’t worry about him dude. He’s just worried about Akaashi here.”

Akaashi narrows his eyes, “This isn’t the first time you’ve asked me something like this Kenma… Is there something you want to say?”

Kenma’s eyes widen slightly and he shakes his head, “Nope. Forget I asked.”

“Hey, babe, it’s alright.” Bokuto rubs Akaashi’s thigh soothingly under the table, “If I were in his position I would be worried about you too… Not that I’m not already! I mean, from what you guys have been saying this guy, or guys, have been picking people randomly or whatever. And with your partner dead he could be planning on killing another one of you guys.”

Akaashi sighs, “Please don’t bring that up, Bokuto-san.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just saying though. There are legitimate reasons to be worried. But I won’t let anything happen to him, Kenma, I swear.” He gives Kenma a blinding grin, puffing his chest out a bit like a superhero. Kenma narrows his honey eyes but doesn’t say a word. Kuroo bites his lip and laughs nervously.

“So, Bo, what’s life on the construction scene like?” Kuroo asks, changing the topic.

Bokuto perks up, “Oh man it’s alright. Lots of heavy lifting but it’s kind of cool to get to build a building ya know? Or something else useful like…”

Akaashi tunes him out. He knows he shouldn’t but just watching the way Bokuto talks animatedly is interesting for him. He’s always so full of life and affection blooms in Akaashi’s chest watching the man talk about something he’s passionate about. As Bokuto talks about how he got into the construction business his had squeezes Akaashi’s thigh. But Akaashi’s eyes are on his face, watching the corns of his eyes crinkle in delight and corners of his mouth tilt up in happiness.

Their food comes and they say thanks, diving in. The sake loosens their tongues and they laugh freely, joking about nothing. The case doesn’t come up again as Bokuto and Kuroo exchange dad jokes, Kenma and Akaashi groaning in contempt. They torture their boyfriends with them until Kenma is telling them to shut up and asks for the check.

Throughout the whole meal Kenma’s eyes don’t leave Bokuto.

Kenma watches him, assessing him carefully. He has his suspicions and he thinks his suspicions are justified but he can’t just say them freely without getting his head bitten off. Plus, there is very little evidence that points to Bokuto. But Kenma has a hunch and most of the time, that hunch is right.

After an argument over the bill, which Bokuto surprisingly wins, they head their separate ways. Kuroo is draped across Kenma as they depart, too drunk off sake to keep him up right. Akaashi insists on driving Bokuto home as the clouds in the sky grow darker and darker. The car ride is silently, Bokuto’s fingers tapping on his knee.

“I still don’t think Kenma likes me very much.” He says after a while, demeanor deflating.

Akaashi sighs and makes a right turn, “Kenma doesn’t like loud people. You’re not exactly… quiet Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto squawks, “Kuroo is just as loud as I am!”

“They’ve been together for quite some time.”

“Well then if we’re together for a long time will Kenma like me?” Akaashi can hear the pout in his voice without even looking.

“Possibly.” Akaashi pulls up to Bokuto’s apartment and puts it in park, turning to look at him. Bokuto glances at the building before leaning over the console and kissing Akaashi on the lips. Akaashi is stunned at first but places a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, reciprocating gently.

Bokuto pulls away with a pop and grins, “Do you want to spend the night?”

“In your place?” Akaashi asks. He had never been invited into his apartment before.

Bokuto nods eagerly, “It’s kind of…messy right now but you can stay if you want.”

Akaashi smiles softly, “Maybe another time. I have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

Bokuto smiles, “Alright, yeah! Maybe this weekend then!” He kisses Akaashi again, quick and chaste before opening the door, “See you tomorrow ‘Kaashi!” He’s gone in a flash and rushes inside. Akaashi chuckles and puts the car into drive once again, pulling back onto the road.

 

* * *

 

The next two days are uneventful. More interviews, more searching through victims’ apartments for something, anything. Two long days of not finding anything, as usual. More sulking, more almost snapping in the work room, more unnecessary arguments.

On the third day, something interesting happens.

It’s just after lunch and it’s another slow day. Akaashi stares at Terushima’s desk, still untouched, hoping that the blonde would walk through those doors and make the day a little more bearable. But he doesn’t and he never will again because he’s gone.

It’s just after lunch when the phone on Akaashi’s desk starts ringing. All heads in the room turn towards him and he stares at it for a moment before picking up, “Akaashi Keiji.”

“Hello Akaashi, it’s Officer Yahaba.” Yahaba grits through the phone. Akaashi tenses. Their last interaction hadn’t gone well.

“Hello Yahaba-san. How can I help you today?” Akaashi steals a nervous glance at his coworkers who all seemingly dropped what they were doing to listen to Akaashi’s phone call.

“I’ve already called Sergeant Kuroo and Chief Iwaizumi but I’ve been… instructed to call you as well. About fifteen minutes ago a young woman came in to our station claiming that she had information regarding the murders. Naturally we sent her to your… facilities and she should be arriving soon.” Yahaba explains calmly but Akaashi can hear slight annoyance in his tone.

Akaashi stands, gripping the phone tightly in his hand, “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll, um, take necessary actions. Have a good day.” Akaashi hangs up and stares at the phone in shock. He looks at the expectant faces of the other agents. “Somebody went to the police station saying they had information about The Owl.”

“Shit.” Konoha says immediately, running his fingers through his hair.

“Does Kuroo know?” Daichi asks. Akaashi nods in response.

“She’s coming here now. I have to…. Go get Sugawara-san because I’m sure Kuroo-san and Iwaizumi-san will want him to talk to her. Sawamura-san, will you come with me?” Akaashi asks. Seconds later they’re fast walking down the hallway to Suga’s office. The door is open and they surprise him by bursting in.

“Potential suspect, we need you, let’s go.” That’s all Daichi says and Suga pales slightly, scrambling to grab a notebook and a pen before rising from his chair. They run into Kuroo in the hallway, a young woman standing behind him, looking around nervously. Kuroo grins lazily.

“Gentlemen, if you’ll come with me.” They nod and follow Kuroo to one of the conference rooms, passing by the room with the agents in it. They openly gape at the young woman who averts her eyes as she walks. Then they turn into the conference room and it shuts behind them, locking them away from wide eyes and gaping mouths.

“You can have a seat there, miss.” Kuroo points to a specific chair at the head of the table. Iwaizumi is already sitting in the room, leg bouncing under the table and his hands clasped in front of him. Daichi, Akaashi and Suga take their respective seats and they all look eagerly at the woman.

The woman tucks a brown lock of hair behind her ear and looks around the table. She is quite pretty with long brown hair and bright brown eyes. Bangs fall along her forehead in a neat swoop and she taps manicured nails on the table. “I’m sorry, is there normally this many people here for this kind of thing?”

Suga speaks first, “Um… We’re all a little eager is all. You’re the first person that’s come to us with any potential information about the murders, uh… Miss… um…”

“Mika.” The woman, Mika, states feebly. Suga nods and offers her graceful smile which she returns shyly.

“So, Mika-san, could you tell us why you came here today?” Suga asks, clicking open his pen. The four other men in the room lean forward eagerly, earning a timid glance from the woman.

“Well, a couple nights ago, the night before the most recent murders, I noticed my boyfriend left in the middle of the night. I have trouble sleeping so I wake up a lot and very easily and was a little confused when I woke up and my boyfriend wasn’t asleep next to me,” she explains slowly.

Suga nods, writing furiously, “Do you remember what time it was when you woke up?”

“It was a little after two in the morning.”

Akaashi clenches his fist under the table. They have concluded that all the murders have occurred between two and three in morning. Suga looks up and glances at Kuroo and then Iwaizumi, who gives him a stern nod.

Suga clears his throat, “And do you know when your boyfriend came home?”

“I stayed up to make sure I caught him when he got home and it was almost four when he did.”

“Did you notice anything different about him, like his mental state or physical appearance?”

“For the last couple of days he seems like… he’s been on edge or something. We got into a big fight when he came home that night and he claimed that he had only gone out for a drive because he couldn’t sleep but he’s never done that before. He was just acting strangely. And he wouldn’t let me touch him… He was in the bathroom for an hour afterwards doing who knows what.”

“Is this the first time this sort of thing has happened?”

“Um, no…” Mika looks up at Kuroo anxiously and then flits here eyes away when they make eye contact. Kuroo tilts his head slightly and grins.

“Withholding information could put this case at stake and is also illegal.. I’m sure you understand, Mika-san.” Kuroo says a warning glint in his eyes, lips curling to expose sharp teeth.

She gulps and nods, “It’s only happened once before and… and that was the night of the murder two months ago. I didn’t want to believe that he could be doing these things but I watched the press conference from that night and you said that there could possibly be two and now I think it’s him and I don’t want it to be. Every time I try to convince myself otherwise I just…can’t.” Her bottom lip trembles and grips the cloth of her skirt under the table.

Akaashi and Daichi suck in a breath and exchange a look, nodding slightly. Iwaizumi’s jaw sets and his brows crease. Kuroo is the only one who seems relaxed. Suga reaches a hand forward and lays it over the hand Mika has on the table. She looks up into his eyes, seeing nothing but warmth and gratitude. Suga smiles kindly, causing her to blush, “It’s alright. I would be scared too if I suspected my boyfriend of committing murder.” His eyes flick to Daichi who blushes slightly.

“I want to be wrong but… everything adds up. I’m not saying he’s the… The Owl guy but he could be the other one. This only all started recently. ”

Suga smiles, “Your bravery for coming to us and telling us this information is very admirable, Mika-san. You’ve given us a lot of useful and valuable information so thank you. And if it does turn out to be your boyfriend, then he could possibly lead us to the one who has been committing all the murders. This new information is a very big asset to our case.”

“I just want this all to end.” Mika says softly, casting eyes at the table.

“We all do,” Daichi speaks up and leans forward, “If you don’t mind, can you tell us your boyfriend’s name?”

Mika straightens, “Suguru. Daishou Suguru.”

 

* * *

 

“We got a name!” Kuroo yells as they walk back into the room where all the agents are housed. Akaashi and Daichi are right behind him and almost walk into him when the sergeant stops short. They look around him to find the four other agents in the room, minus Asahi, arm wrestling. Kuroo exhales disappointedly as the four stare at him with big eyes, “You know, I expect this from three of you but Yaku… Really?”

Yaku frowns, “I was roped into this because Lev is a menace.” He shoots the taller man a glare and Lev jumps back a bit, sheepish smile on his lips.

Kuroo shakes his head, “I don’t care. We’ve have a potential suspect with really good odds and this could take us places so get your asses into gear and start searching. Look through the records, news clippings, find anything you can about this guy alright? Anything you find goes to Akaashi who will bring it to me.”

There are mutters of agreement as everybody slinks to their desks. The only sounds that fills the room for the next hour are clicks of a mouse and taps of a keyboard. Konoha is the one who finds out that Daishou had two previous arrests, both for possession of illegal substances but he was released on bail both times. It’s not helpful but now they have a face to a name and possible motives.

“Do you think we could go through phone records? Maybe an email address if we can get one?” Yaku asks after some time.

Daichi whistles and leans back, linking his fingers behind his head, “We need a judge’s ruling to get a search warrant in order to go through any personal accounts of a potential suspect. This goes for social media as well. Why?”

“If we get phone records then maybe we can trace a number back to the Owl right? This girlfriend said she only suspects the boyfriend of the most recent murders and with that we can only conclude that he’s this snake guy.” Yaku explains, twirling a pen between his fingers.

“Wow, that’s so smart Yaku-san!” Lev says, voice full of awe. Yaku blushes slightly and averts his eyes from the Russian.

“How long would it take to get a search warrant, Akaashi?” Yaku asks, eyeing Akaashi. Akaashi doesn’t hear him at first, shuffling through papers on his desk. His head is resting in the palm of his hand as he goes through information. It’s only after Yaku calls his name and asks him again that he responds.

“I mean, with the urgency of this case if I put in a request for a search warrant we could have one in a couple of days so… Friday? But that’s to go through things like his laptop, phone, apartment… If we arrest him and go through his car to look for evidence then we don’t need one.” Akaashi explains with a heavy sigh, “But I don’t think we’ll be making any arrests without tangible evidence.”

“I think we should take the risk and go off of what the girlfriend said,” Konoha states with a shrug. They all look at him and he gapes, “What? She said that he left before the murders supposedly happened and then he didn’t come back until after they were done. And when he did come back he was all shook up. If anything, we go pick him up for questioning.”

“What if she’s wrong?” Sarukui asks.

“Then she’s wrong and we keep looking.” Konoha says spreading his hands out in front of him.

“For once I agree with him,” Akaashi nods and Konoha beams proudly. Akaashi stands and smoothes his tie down, “I’ll be back. Keep working.”

“Where ya goin boss?” Sarukui asks, leaning back in his chair, eyeing Akaashi as he stalks to the door. The way Akaashi’s face falls is never good news and it can only mean one thing.

“I need to go ask a favor from the Analytics department.” Akaashi inwardly groans as he pushes the door open, the cackles of Konoha and Sarukui following him. He knows he probably made a face of contempt but he hates going to the analytics department. Tsukishima is almost always playing a game rather than doing actual work and Yamaguchi always looks like he wants to say something about it but never does. Plus after seeing Tsukishima with a _yo-yo_ the other day he really does not want to see what he’s doing this afternoon.

The short journey to their office is not enough to prepare Akaashi for the interaction. It never is.

Today, Tsukishima is playing World of Warcraft and this time Akaashi does groan out loud. Yamaguchi squeaks and scrambles to collect some pieces of paper together to look as if he’s doing work. Tsukishima doesn’t budge and continues to play as if he hadn’t heard Akaashi enter. “Is this going to happen _every time_ I come in here?” Akaashi asks exasperation in his tone.

Yamaguchi stumbles over his words, “I-I try to tell him b-but he does what he wants, Akaashi-san.”

Tsukishima looks at him over the rim of his glasses, “Shut up Yamaguchi. What do you want Akaashi- _san_?”

Akaashi narrows his eyes and lets the door swing closed behind him. “We have a real, reliable suspect and I need you to do me a favor.”

“Favors don’t come for free.” Tsukishima spins around in his chair with a smirk on his face. Akaashi really wants to smack him.

“Listen, Tsukishima-kun,” Akaashi begins, voice filled with venom, “this is your job and I’m no longer asking for a favor, it’s an order now. So you will do as I say, understand?” Tsukishima’s smirk slides right off his face to be replaced with a scowl and a rise of an eyebrow.

“What do you need me to do, boss?” Tsukishima asks mockingly.

“I need you to go through some social media accounts… of our suspect” Akaashi explains. Yamaguchi’s mouth drops but Tsukishima speaks before he’s able to.

“That’s _illegal_. You can’t just go through them without permission…” Tsukishima regards him incredulously.

“I don’t want to go through them per say… I wanted to know if one of you could friend him on Facebook and then see if they’ve been up to anything…”

“That’s dangerous!” Yamaguchi exclaims, “What if he chooses his victims through Facebook or other forms of social media?”

Akaashi looks taken aback. He opens his mouth and then closes it, “That’s… actually a pretty good idea. Which is why you should friend him and find out. His name is Daishou Suguru.”

“You don’t need to be friends with somebody to go through their friends list.” Tsukishima says but sighs, closing out of World of Warcraft, “I’ll do this for you. And if I find anything, I’ll let you know.” Akaashi nods and says his thanks before ducking out of the room again as fast as possible.

It’s right before he leaves that he receives an email from Tsukishima.

**From: Tsukishima Kei**

**Subject: Urgent**

_He was friends with the victims from the past two murders on Facebook. Do with that what you want._

Akaashi’s jaw sets and he closes out of the email, shutting the computer off entirely. It can wait until tomorrow. It’s too soon after the most recent murder for there to be another. He grabs his jacket and bids farewell to his colleagues, walking out of the office. He doesn’t leave the facility immediately, though, instead he goes to Kuroo’s office.

He knocks before entering and closes it behind him. Kenma is in there, waiting for Kuroo to finish whatever he’s doing patiently. Akaashi shrugs into his jacket.

“What do you have for me Akaashi?” Kuroo asks, not looking away from his laptop.

“Konoha said he was arrested for drug possession twice when he was younger and… I had Tsukishima go through his Facebook.”

That has Kuroo looking at him blankly. Kuroo opens his mouth to scold him but Akaashi holds his hand up, “I know it’s illegal. But Daishou is friends with the most recent victims on Facebook and I don’t think that’s a coincidence, Tetsurou. I think we should go ahead and make an arrest.”

Kuroo clicks his tongue and turns his chair so he’s staring out the window. Kenma looks up from the game he’s playing on his phone to twist his head back and forth between them. His brows furrow behind bangs in confusion, obviously not having known that they had progressed this quickly so fast. He wears an expression of shock as well but it’s dulled by the confusion.

“Alright,” Kuroo relents, turning back around to look at Akaashi with dark eyes. “Tomorrow, we’ll make a public arrest. Do not say anything to anybody.”

Akaashi nods, “Yes, Kuroo-san. Tomorrow.” He bows politely before exiting the office and the building entirely.

That night, as he’s going down on Bokuto with bobs of his head and tongue stroking up and down the length, his mind is overworking itself. All he can think about is tomorrow’s events. He prays for a smooth arrest and for a complying suspect. He hopes that Suga’s smile can get all the answers out of him, knowing that they’ll stick him with Suga to pull the answers from this snake of a man.

But tonight he focuses on the pleasure of his lover, a pre-celebration for the main event to come.


	8. One Step Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're so close and a celebration ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Just a warning for this chapter: **there's a heavy sex scene at the end**. Also, the sex is 100% consensual!!  
>  Also for the person who wanted more explicit sex I hope I fulfilled your wishes ;)  
> Enjoy this chapter! We're so close guys, so very close! We're more than halfway there!  
> Also (again) thank you for the overwhelming support of this story, it has over 100 kudos and it just makes me so happy so thank you guys so so much!

The Snake sits curled on the sofa in the late hours of the night, light from the TV painting him a myriad of colors. He sits, unseeing, too petrified to move. He knows the woman in his bed is lying to him about where she was today and he can’t help but think the worst.

He wonders if it’s too late to run as memory of blood spraying from a child’s chest replays over and over again in his mind.

 

* * *

 

The air in the room is tense. This will be their biggest move yet; it’s a move that opens up other doors to finally bring this case to a close after months of getting nowhere. It was almost a year now that this case came to them and it was time for the climax.

Akaashi begins the day looking through files once more and confirming that these men and women were in fact people on Daishou’s Facebook friend’s list. Then, when it is later in the morning, he calls Mika to ask if her boyfriend is at work currently and where he works just to make sure their information is correct. She confirms that he is at work and then asks what’s happening. Of course, Akaashi cannot disclose any information so he just tells her everything is going to be okay and hangs up.

Yaku and Lev leave around ten to go search the vehicle that belongs to Daishou. They don’t need a warrant for this due to the fact that the vehicle could be hiding evidence that links Daishou to the murders. Asahi leaves at the same time to put in a request for a warrant so they can go through social media and email accounts. Konoha and Sarukui are left at the station to handle things there while Akaashi prepares himself to go on sight with Kuroo and Officer Yahaba. Daichi is in Suga’s office informing him on what will play out that day.

A little after noon Akaashi gathers his things and leaves the building with Kuroo. They split ways, Kuroo heading to their destination while Akaashi drives to the police station. There he meets up with Yahaba, who looks less than pleased to let Akaashi in to his patrol car. The car ride to Daishou’s work place is silent, no radio playing softly to ease the tension.

They park, right next to Kuroo and the three of them walk into the building. Akaashi and Kuroo flash their FBI badges at the receptionist before making their way to the elevator. Nobody questions them, just moves out of their way as they descend upon the office room that Mika said he would be in. From his mug shot, they’re able to pinpoint him sitting behind a desk.

Daishou eyes them warily as they approach him. He’s sitting at his desk and gnaws his lip nervously.  When the three stop in front of him, it’s almost as if they’re boxing him in. Akaashi and Kuroo are on either side of him while Yahaba stands behind. There is no room to run, if he were going to.

“Daishou Suguru?” Kuroo drawls, a vicious smirk on his lips. His hands are shoved in his pockets as if this were a casual matter.

“Yes?” Daishou grits. All three can see the trembling of his hands.

“Stand up,” Kuroo orders, face stone cold now. Daishou’s eyes widen slightly from the tone of Kuroo’s voice.

“Why…?” He asks but does it anyway, not daring to disobey. His coworkers are staring, watching with interest and shock on their faces. Yahaba grabs his wrists and pulls his them behind his back, handcuffs clicking into place to hold him there. His coworkers gasp as they put the pieces together.

Kuroo is smirking. Akaashi’s face is stoic as ever but there’s anticipation beating in his chest. His eyes flick to the right and he can see some people recording this on their phones. There’s no doubt it will be all over social media within seconds. He should probably stop them but…

Yahaba smile is terrifying, “Daishou Suguru, you’re under arrest for the serial killings happening in Tokyo.” And then they’re dragging him from the office, Daishou’s head down and mouth pulled into a thin line. Akaashi and Kuroo trail behind them, nodding at the employees who stare wide eyed. More crowd to watch them walk down the hall and into the elevator.

Yahaba shoves the snake into the backseat of the car and slams the door closed before climbing into the driver’s seat. Akaashi sits in the passenger seat, directing Yahaba to drive them to the FBI’s facility. Yahaba argues that it’s against protocol, that they need to get him fingerprinted first but Akaashi says that it can wait. Ultimately, they’re brought to FBI facility, Yahaba scowling the entire time.

Daishou is hauled into one of the interview rooms and shoved into the chair by Yahaba. His hands are still cuffed behind his back and Akaashi takes his seat across from him, telling Yahaba that he can handle it from here. With a set jaw, Yahaba retreats to the other side of the one way mirror.

Daishou grows confident as they sit there and a smirk pulls at his thin lips, tongue peeking out to wet them. Akaashi tries not the look at him as they sit in silence, waiting for Suga to arrive. Suga rushes in, in a hurry, clutching a file folder under his arm, and drops down next to Akaashi, grinning at him, “Sorry I’m late, Daichi was pitching a fit.”

Akaashi sighs, “I wouldn’t expect anything else from Sawamura-san.”

Suga laughs softly before turning his attention on Daishou, “Ah, you must be Daishou-san. I’ve been… ordered to brief you before I can ask any significant questions so if you cooperate this will all go smoothly.”

“I don’t think anything could possibly go smoothly from here.” Daishou bites, the smirk never leaving his face.

Suga taps his pen on the metal table, “Maybe not for you.” He begins asking Daishou to state his name, age, birth date and information of the like. This is what Yahaba had been talking about and Akaashi wants to roll his eyes because he knows Suga was bullied by the officer to ask these things. Makes Yahaba’s job easier at least.

Once they’re done Suga glances at Akaashi, who gestures subtly to Daishou with a flick of his chin. Suga sighs shakily and then offers a smile, “Is it okay if I ask you a couple of questions about why we brought you in, Daishou-san?”

Daishou chuckles, “It would be pointless for me to say no so sure, go ahead.”

Suga bites his lip and nods, “Could you tell me where you were this past Monday night, April twenty-fourth?”

“I was at home, asleep in my bed with my girlfriend.” Daishou lies. They know he’s lying; Mika had told them otherwise and there was no reason to not believe her with how she reacted.

“And were you home the whole night?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Suga smiles and opens the file. There are pictures under a few pieces of paper but Akaashi can’t see what they are. “And what about the night of February twenty-second? Were you home then too?”

“I believe so. I’d have to check my calendar, my brain’s a bit foggy.” Daishou huffs a laugh and Akaashi narrows his eyes.

“If you can’t recall that’s the night where a man was murdered in his apartment and was found the next morning with his tongue cut from his body and eyes and mouth slit open to make him resemble something like a snake,” Akaashi sneers, leaning forward, “Does that ring any bells?”

Daishou visibly pales but that smirk stays intact, “Nope, can’t say that it does.” He pops the “p” when he says nope. Suga slides a photo across the table and smiles sweetly.

“What about now?”

Daishou looks like he’s going to be sick and averts his eyes. Akaashi studies his face, looking for any kind of guilt or fear in it but can’t find anything but disgust. “Again, I can’t say that it does.”

Suga moves some papers out of the way in the file and slides another photograph across the table so it’s facing Daishou, “Let’s see if I can give you something that you will know. Could you identify this vehicle for me, Daishou-san?”

Daishou’s jaw sets as he stares at the photo, “That would be my car. Did you go through my car?”

“We believed that your car could be hiding evidence in it,” Suga explains, pulling out a few more pictures and laying them out on the table facing Daishou. “We found a knife in the trunk of your car, stained with blood along with some gloves and a sweatshirt. We’ve confiscated all it and the blood found on the knife is being processed right now to see if it matches those of our victims. I think you and I know what we’ll find in the results.” Suga’s smile is nothing but kind but there’s something sinister in his eyes.

“I didn’t know you guys could go into my car without permission.” Daishou says, aura of confidence never diminishing.

Akaashi chuckles lowly, “We don’t need your permission, Daishou-san, if we believe that you’re hiding evidence in it. Sugawara-san has already stated this.”

“I could’ve been framed.” Daishou says pointedly.

“You could have, yes, but if we find enough of your DNA on that sweatshirt or that knife then things are definitely not going to look bright for you.” Suga says and pulls the photos back, placing them neatly in the folder. He pulls out pictures of the mangled victims, placing them in front of Daishou.

Daishou wants to look away but he can’t. The smirk is now gone, jaw set, eyes dark. “There was a child found in a state similar to that of the murder on February twenty-second, along with her parents,” Akaashi begins slowly, “These types of murders only started happening on that date. The other twenty or so were in this fashion.” He reaches across the table to point at a photo with the style the Owl chooses to kill in.

“I’m going to be honest with you Daishou-san, in hopes that you’re honest with me.” Suga begins, folding his hands in front of him and looking the potential killer directly in the eye. “We brought you here because we think that you are this new serial killer and that you’re working with the Owl. Your girlfriend, Mika-san, also thinks this which is why you’re here today. And if you confess then I can guarantee that your life will still be hard, but it won’t be as hard as it needs to be from here on out.”

“You spoke to my girlfriend?” Daishou asks immediately once Suga is done speaking.

Suga smiles, “Yes. She actually came to us yesterday and gave us information that doesn’t match up with the story you’re telling us. Now, I’ll ask you straight forward and you can decide if want to dance around it or not.” Daishou scoffs and laughs lightly before Suga continues, “Did you murder the child seen in these photographs on April twenty-fourth? As well as that child’s parents?”

Akaashi doesn’t miss the flash of remorse in his eyes before it’s shielded by haughtiness. “I might have,” is Daishou’s response.

Suga and Akaashi exchange another glance before the ash blonde laughs under his breath. It’s devoid of happiness. “Are you working with the Owl? _Are_ you the Owl?”

Daishou tilts his head back and laughs out loud, “As if I could be a sick freak like him. I don’t kill for fun; I do it because I’m told…” A distressed noise from the back of his throat rises and he bites on his bottom lip roughly, realizing what he just said. Akaashi and Suga silently cheer in their minds because with that simple statement he told them many different things.

“So you can confirm that the Owl is a male? And that you are working for him?” Suga asks. This time there’s confidence in _his_ voice.

Daishou clenches his teeth and spits, “Yes. The Owl is a guy. You gonna rub it in my face that I let it slip?”

Suga chuckles, “No, not today. And you must know him personally if he’s giving you orders and you’re blindly following them, correct?”

Suddenly a smile breaks out onto his face and his eyes find Akaashi’s, ignoring Suga’s question. Akaashi shifts uncomfortably at the sudden change in his demeanor. His posture and expression make him seem like he’s in control of the situation. “Can I ask you guys a question now?”

Suga straightens and offers a sweet smile, “This isn’t a game Daishou-san. We’re just trying to understand the situation and put a stop to it.”

“Oh but I think it’s only fair that I get to ask you two a question now. You’ve asked me so many already.” Daishou winks at them and Akaashi balls his fist under the table.

“Maybe if you answer my last question then you can ask us one question,” Suga bargains.

Daishou isn’t happy with that and his tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth, “If a serial killer was standing right in front of you, would you know?”

This makes Suga and Akaashi sit rigid with attention. They exchange a glance, wondering if they should humor him with an answer before Suga turns back to him. “Erm, I don’t get what you’re saying and I would appreciate if you would-.”

Daishou snickers, “Y’all are dense, aren’t you? I guess that’s to be said when you can’t even figure out who my partner is and he’s been doing it longer than I have. It’s been what? Almost a year now right?” Akaashi and Suga are stunned at his sudden openness. “I thought my question was pretty straight forward but I’ll ask again. Would you know a serial if he was standing right in front of you?”

Akaashi leans forward, “I don’t like what you’re insinuating Daishou-san. If there’s something you want to tell us then you should do it.”

“Oh, my lips are sealed. All I’m trying to say is that you should open your eyes and take in your surroundings. You guys clearly aren’t looking close enough. One of you could be the Owl and the other wouldn’t even know.” Thin eyes open wide and then he winks, right at Akaashi. Akaashi swallows thickly and can feel Suga’s eyes on him, assessing. Akaashi doesn’t dare look back. He doesn’t like what Daishou is implying about him or about anybody else that he’s close to. But he does have a point. Would he know if somebody close to him was a serial killer if there were no signs? Surely, something would be off and he would know.

Suga sits back and collects the photos, shutting the photos. “I think… We’re done for today, Daishou-san. Don’t be surprised if you’re back for more questioning.” He and Akaashi rise, Daishou smirking at their backs as they leave the room. Yahaba is brushing past them very pale as lugs the murderer from the room.

Suga and Akaashi walk numbly down the hall. “Do you think what he said could be true?” Suga asks softly.

“About what?” Akaashi asks, glancing at him. Suga won’t meet his eyes.

“About one of us being a serial killer?”

“I don’t…. I think we’d know right? If somebody close to us was a serial killer? There has to be some telltale signs. If you’re close with somebody then you would know. You’d definitely know.” Akaashi says simply, “Plus he hinted at knowing this man personally. We need to interview every man that has known Daishou in recent years because it’s most likely one of them.”

“That’s a lot of work,” Suga sighs and runs his fingers through silver hair, “But if we have to do it then let’s do it.”

Akaashi nods and parts ways with him, pushing into the agents’ room. They all look up at him anxiously and for once, he smiles. “We got our guy.”

They’re all silent for a moment before they’re cheering. Konoha actually tosses papers into the air as he shouts and Akaashi watches, annoyed, as they flutter to the ground. But he can’t help but be too upset because he’s excited too. They’re so _close_ , close to bringing justice to every victim that was murdered.

Akaashi grips the back of Terushima’s abandoned chair. It’s the first time anybody has touched it since January. He squeezes it tight in his palm and smiles softly. _Terushima we’re so close. I promise we’re going to bring you some justice._

 

* * *

 

That night it seems as if the entirety of the FBI goes out for drinks. But catching one serial killer has them feeling good so of course they’re going to go celebrate. Akaashi invites Bokuto to come join them. By now it’s all over the news thanks to the people at the office recording the arrest. Bokuto saw it and immediately called Akaashi that afternoon, screeching in excitement for him.

Kuroo and Iwaizumi of course have to do another press conference, this time with good news about catching the Owl’s cohort and that they’re closer than they’ve ever been to finding out the identity of the Owl. They promise that it’ll all be over soon.

Kuroo and Iwaizumi are the last ones in the bar for that reason, everybody else already one or two beers down. Oikawa immediately tackles his husband in a tight hug, yelling out “ _IWA-CHAN_ ” before pressing kisses all over his cheeks. Iwaizumi just blushes and gently tries to shove him off, not wanting to draw attention to them. Bokuto whispers to Akaashi that he was right about Oikawa being a little too much to handle.

Akaashi is tucked under Bokuto’s arm across from Suga and Daichi, Suga leaning heavily into the thicker man. He’s not even that drunk yet but would rather rest against Daichi than hold up his own weight. Asahi sits at the end of the table a beer in hand, his tiny boyfriend flitting around the bar, trying to get Tsukishima to take a shot with him. Asahi’s boyfriend, Nishinoya, is the on-call psychologist at the facility and works with them.

Yaku and Lev sit at the other end. Yaku looks to be fuming, probably because of something that Lev said. Yamaguchi eyes them warily but just sips at his beer and doesn’t say a word. Konoha and Sarukui barely miss tripping over their own two feet as they carefully carry drinks for everybody for to the table.

“Ayy, boss men!” Konoha calls and puts all the glasses on the table, holding out a shot glass to Iwaizumi and Kuroo each. “Drink up!”

“You know we still have work tomorrow right?” Iwaizumi asks hesitantly grabbing the glass.

“We can all be hungover together.” Sarukui smirks and downs his shot in one gulp. Konoha laughs and holds his shot glass high in cheers and then follows suit. Kuroo is downing his too and Iwaizumi just heaves a disappointed sigh and knocks his drink back, Oikawa cheering the whole way.

Kuroo drapes an arm around Bokuto, “It’s good to see you here man!”

Bokuto grins and fist bumps him, “You too! Akaashi invited me, I hope that’s alright.”

Kuroo smirks, “Of course it’s alright! Everybody here is banging somebody else here so it’s cool. Speaking of… Hey, Tsukki! Are you banging Freckles yet?!” Yamaguchi turns incredibly red and starts to stammer over his works, Tsukishima’s cheeks flush pink as he pushes his glasses up to rub his eyes.

“That’s not – don’t….” Tsukishima sighs and shakes his head, “It’s none of your business and _do not_ call me that.”

Kuroo smirks and leans towards Bokuto, “They definitely are. A few more drinks in and he’ll spill all the beans.” Bokuto snickers and Akaashi just takes a drink of his beer to drown out the idiocy of those around him.

Kuroo had been right, of course. A couple more drinks of hard liquor and the whole agency is smashed. Asahi had opted out first, dragging Nishinoya behind him before he could create a scene that ultimately would’ve happened. Yaku left soon after but Lev stayed and Akaashi still wonders about the status of their relationship. Tsukishima had promptly kissed Yamaguchi well into their fourth drinks, confirming everybody’s suspicions. Of course everybody hoots and hollers when they do.

Daichi is tense, anybody could see that, and Suga has a devious smirk on his lips. Kuroo points it out and Daichi flushes an even deeper red than he already had been. Iwaizumi carries Oikawa’s ass out of the bar after Yamaguchi and Tsukishima had made out, maybe to fuck or maybe because Oikawa is getting belligerent. All Konoha and Sarukui want to do was play a drinking game.

Akaashi leans on Bokuto, his head on his shoulder and his arms encircled around one of Bokuto’s. Bokuto has a hand on Akaashi’s thigh, occasionally squeezing it affectionately and thumb rubbing the outer most part. In all honesty, it’s making Akaashi horny and he presses his face into Bokuto’s arm to hide his embarrassment because _he’s getting hard in the middle of a bar from Bokuto rubbing his leg_. Akaashi hasn’t popped a boner this quick since high school.

“Bokuto-san.” He murmurs in the middle of Kuroo recounting a story enthusiastically. Suga keeps interrupting him to poke fun at him and Tsukishima ends up going along with it, always loving to jab at Kuroo. Yamaguchi’s pleads for him to stop, through laughter of course, fall on deaf ears.

Bokuto turns his attention to Akaashi to see him red faced and moving his leg restlessly, “What’s wrong?”

Akaashi glances at his friends before brushing his lips over the shell of Bokuto’s ear, fingers curling tightly over his bicep, “I’m really horny, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto stiffens at that, fist clenching on his thigh.

“Uh…” Bokuto glances at the people at the table. Lev is laughing so hard he looks like he’s going to puke, Kuroo is talking fast and his hands are moving even faster, Suga and Tsukishima wear the same mischievous smirks on their faces as they interject, Daichi looks as if he wants to be anywhere but there, and Yamaguchi looks embarrassed. Konoha and Sarukui are nowhere in sight. Nobody is paying attention to them. “What do you need me to do, ‘Kaashi?”

Akaashi chuckles lowly, seductively, “I really need you to take me home and fuck me into the mattress, _Koutarou_.” Bokuto basically wheezes as he shoots up, knocking into the table. Kuroo pauses in his storytelling to look at him.

“You good bro?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow, looking between him and Akaashi. A knowing smile unfurls onto his lips.

Bokuto nods and eagerly tugs Akaashi out of the chair. Akaashi has half a mind to take his jacket and holding it over his crotch discreetly. “Yup. Akaashi’s feeling a little sick so we’re going to uh, get going. It was nice seeing you guys again.” He takes Akaashi’s hand and tugs him away. Kuroo, Konoha and Suga are whistling at them.

“Use a condom!” Suga cackles and Daichi just puts his face in his hands and sighs. This just makes Suga giggle hard and press a wet kiss to his ear.

Neither Bokuto nor Akaashi can drive in their tipsy state so they end up stumbling all the way back to Akaashi’s apartment. In the stairwell their lips are all over each other, hands roaming in places they should not in public. It’s still early in the evening, around ten, and residents may or may not come up the stairs at any time. With a sweep of a tongue Akaashi grabs onto Bokuto’s collar and drags him to the door.

Akaashi fumbles with the keys, Bokuto’s hands at his hips and pelvis basically rutting into his backside as he tries to get the key into the lock. Bokuto helps steady his hand, mouthing at the back of his neck as they turn the key together. The door is closed behind them in mere seconds as Bokuto slams Akaashi against it, thigh bullying his legs apart to press against his erection. Akaashi grunts and opens his mouth to say something, but is gladly met with Bokuto’s tongue.

Akaashi moans into Bokuto’s mouth as they kiss, hips rutting against his thigh. Bokuto laughs and pulls away, ducking his face into the crevice of Akaashi’s neck. His hands reach around to grope Akaashi’s ass, “Damn, you’re really hard baby. What’s got you like this?”

“Your hand on my thi _iiiigh_ ,” Akaashi’s voice dissolves into a sigh as Bokuto’s hand moves to his front, gripping his erection through his pants. He tips his head back against the door and looks at Bokuto with lidded eyes.

“I should touch your thigh more often if this is the result.” Bokuto chuckles and wastes no time unbuttoning his pants to slip his hand inside, wrapping his fist around Akaashi’s clothed erection.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi breathes, hand snaking up to dig into the back of his neck. He presses their foreheads together and whispers, “Not here. I want to be in the bed.” Bokuto golden eyes are blown black at the words and he grips Akaashi’s hand tight as he drags him to the bedroom.

It is Akaashi who shoves Bokuto to the bed, pressing a hand onto his chest until he’s laying flat on his back against the pillows. “Take your shirt off,” Akaashi demands huskily, kneeling by Bokuto’s sock clad feet. Bokuto eagerly complies and lays their shirtless, biting back a groan when Akaashi licks his lips at his exposed abs.

Akaashi slowly unbuttons his shirt, letting it drop from his shoulders and arms slowly. He tosses it over his shoulder, his undershirt soon following. Then he leaned forward onto his hands and crawls up the length of Bokuto’s legs, taking the button of his pants into his teeth and undoing it. He can hear Bokuto’s breath hitch in his throat in the form of a choked gasp and smirks slightly, taking the zipper into his mouth. He drags it through each not agonizingly slow, revealing more of Bokuto’s navy blue boxers. When the zipper is completely down, Akaashi wastes no time tugging the pants off of Bokuto’s body, adding to the pile of clothes.

Not feeling like engaging in foreplay tonight, Akaashi pulls the boxers down soon after. He had seen Bokuto’s dick a handful of times, but he couldn’t stop his hesitancy when it’s first revealed. It’s thick, thicker than average, and a nice length. It’s an average size but the girth is impressive. Akaashi presses a kiss to the tip before squirming out of his own clothes.

Akaashi crawls up Bokuto’s body, kissing him quick and chaste before dropping down next to him on his knees, chest pressed to the mattress. Bokuto’s cock twitches at the sight of Akaashi bearing himself to him. “Please.” Akaashi pleads just above a whisper. Bokuto scrambles onto his knees and grabs the lube and a condom from the bedside table.

Akaashi spreads his legs and grabs a pillow as Bokuto crouches behind him. Akaashi doesn’t expect Bokuto’s tongue pressed flat against his entrance and sweep upwards but it does and he moans out loud before he can stop himself. “Ohoho we like that don’t we?” Bokuto asks, smirk evident in his voice.

Then he licks from the perineum to the top of his entrance and whatever Akaashi was going to respond with dies on his tongue, drowned out by a drawn out moan. Bokuto is ruthless with his tongue, flicking the tip against the rim roughly, desperate to pry him open. Akaashi sobs with pleasure and grips the pillow.

Bokuto finally breaks through after vigorous licking and the tip of his tongue finally slips past the tight ring of muscle. Akaashi lurches forward with a moan and buries his face into the pillow as Bokuto starts fucking him with his tongue. It’s a strange sensation but tingles of pleasure shoot up his spin every time Bokuto thrusts in and out.

Bokuto pulls away and temporarily leaves. Akaashi barely hears the sound of running water and figures Bokuto is washing his mouth out. Akaashi closes his eyes and doesn’t hear Bokuto come back, or hear the sound of the cap of the lube bottle opening. He only notices Bokuto’s presence again when the bed dips and there a cool, slick finger slipping inside of him.

Akaashi gasps and arches his back as Bokuto sinks his finger into him. His free hand comes and presses gently into the small of Akaashi’s back, “It’s alright baby, just relax for me.” Akaashi drops his face to the pillow and whimpers. Bokuto lets him adjust for a moment and when he feels the tension in Akaashi’s simmer down he starts to move.

His thrusts start slow, pulling out to the first knuckle and then gliding in. With each thrust he increases the tempo. Deeming Akaashi loose enough he adds another slick finger and Akaashi hisses at the slight stretch but it’s not unpleasing. Bokuto’s fingers drag along his walls as he pulls out and plunges back in, creating a steady rhythm.

Akaashi groans as Bokuto curls his fingers inside him slightly. Bokuto moves his hand to his hip and leans forward, kissing the middle of his back, “You’re so hot inside ‘Kaashi…” His fingers build up pace, spreading inside of him with every outward thrust.

“B-Bokuto-san, p-please…” Akaashi gasps as Bokuto teases along his prostate, never quite hitting it full on.

“Please what baby?” He’s nudging a third finger in along the two others and Akaashi cries out, spreading his legs further and dropping his full weight onto his chest.

“P-Please!” Akaashi pleads, fingers kneading the pillow desperately.

Bokuto twists his wrist as he moves his fingers forward, rocking in and out of him. He doesn’t go near Akaashi’s prostate, just tests out new angles and gradually increasing and decreasing his speed. Akaashi’s cock twitches beneath him but he refuses to touch it, not wanting to cum until Bokuto is inside of him.

Akaashi thinks that he won’t make it that far when Bokuto’s fingers _slam_ into his prostate.

Akaashi howls and Akaashi has half a mind to worry about his neighbors hearing him but he is too far gone to care, “Right there, right _there_!” Akaashi chants breathlessly as Bokuto’s fingers abuse his prostate. Akaashi’s back is arched so high he’s worried it may snap. Bokuto soothes him with rubs to his hip as he continues to open him up.

Bokuto spread his fingers inside of as much as he can, scissoring them open and closed until he decides Akaashi is stretched enough to take him. He keeps his fingers spread as he eases them out of the black haired beauty beneath him, the sound of his whines music to his ears. He soothes him with a hand rubbing lovingly against his back. He carefully takes the condom from the wrapper, rolling it on to his erection. Akaashi whines at the sound of the lube being uncapped and Bokuto adds a copious amount, slicking it up before pressing the head to Akaashi’s entrance.

“Ready?” Bokuto asks, bracing a hand on Akaashi’s hip.

“Just fucking _do it already_ ,” Akaashi growls out needy and pushes his hips back into Bokuto. Bokuto holds his hips steady and applies pressure before the head slides past the tight ring.

Akaashi slams his hand against the headboard and his mouth falls open in a silent shout when Bokuto presses in. Sure, Bokuto is thick and he _had_ been stretched thoroughly but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. “You okay?” Bokuto murmurs, pulling Akaashi up so his back is pressed flush against his chest.

Akaashi’s head lolls back and he looks at Bokuto through lidded eyes, “More.” He whispers, capturing Bokuto’s lips with his as Bokuto grips his hips like his life depends on it, sinking in an inch at a time. Akaashi steadies himself against the headboard, fingers fluttering on the wood. When he finally bottom out and thumbs circles into Akaashi’s skin, mouthing at his shoulder.

Akaashi’s entire body trembles as he gets used to it. It had been way too long since anybody had seen him like this. Before Bokuto there was only the pleasure of his own fingers and nothing else, finding it humiliating to go out and buy some sort of toy to sate his desires. It feels amazing.

“You can…move.” Akaashi murmurs and another kiss is placed to his shoulder and then Bokuto’s hips are on the move, swinging into him. Akaashi cries out and presses his palms flat to the headboard to brace himself.

Bokuto wastes no time pounding rapidly, giving in to Akaashi’s demand at the bar. The only sound in the room is Bokuto’s hips smacking into the flesh of Akaashi’s ass as he thrusts roughly, knowing that Akaashi can take it. If Akaashi’s moans and cries are anything to go by, he’s thoroughly enjoying it.

Akaashi rocks back into him, meeting every rough thrust. His knees are starting to ache from holding himself up and he presses harder into the headboard. “ _F-Fuck_ ….” He moans out as Bokuto teases his prostate. His pace is slowing and Akaashi clenches around him.

Bokuto lets out a guttural moan and drops his forehead to Akaashi’s shoulder, “What… was that for?”

Akaashi shrugs and thrusts back into him, wiggling his hips in order to get the spot that will make him see stars. But it’s too difficult like this so he decides to take charge, pulling out and rolling from under him. “Sit against the headboard.” His voice is rough with lust and Bokuto doesn’t dare disobey.

Akaashi swings his leg over Bokuto’s waist and wraps them around his hips, heels of his feet digging into his strong back. He puts his hands on Bokuto’s shoulders and sinks down onto him once more, now in charge. He starts bouncing up and down, alternating between bouncing and grinding his hips down.

“Fuck you’re so hot.” Bokuto moans, watching Akaashi bounce. One hand grips his hip to steady him while the other moves between their bodies to circle around Akaashi’s cock. It had been bobbing against his navel, smearing precum across the skin there.

Akaashi’s jaw drops open and a needy moan falls from his lips. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows he sounds desperate and kind of like a whore but he blames it on the alcohol. The alcohol makes him more vocal. He hopes Bokuto won’t get used to this.

Akaashi’s hips stutter in their rhythm as Bokuto jerks him off, thumbing at his slit teasingly. Bokuto guides his hips with his hand, moving them in circles and then lifting them up to slam them back down.

Bokuto helps him find his prostate and his vision whites out, body going numb as he cums, spilling over Bokuto’s hands and onto his stomach. He tilts his head back and moans, lips parted and wet. The air from his lungs is completely knocked out at the intensity of his orgasm. His lips continuously murmur out “ _Koutarou_.”

Akaashi gasps for air as he comes down from his high. He can feel a sticky hand against his waist and he’s aware that he’s still bouncing. The overstimulation is getting to him and he whispers, grabbing Bokuto’s face in his hands and placing bruising kisses to his lips. Bokuto bites on his lower lip, sucking it between his own two lips.

“Fuck, Keiji, I’m gonna…” He lowers his forehead to Akaashi neck, lips ghosting over his skin as he spills into the condom, never letting the rhythm of Akaashi’s hips slow down. Akaashi is grunting with him, gripping at his hair

They slow down and try to catch their breath. The hot air from their lips mingles as they press their foreheads together, clutching to each other. Bokuto removes the condom and ties it, blindly tossing it in the direction of the waste basket. He stills hasn’t regained the air in his lungs.

“I thought,” Bokuto begins as he pants, trying to get the words out, “that you wanted to be pounded into the mattress?”

Akaashi blinks at him momentarily before throwing his head back and laughing. He’s still mildly drunk despite the fantastic fuck sobering him up significantly. He figures he’s going to have a killer headache in the morning and a sore backside but it’s nothing he can’t handle. He hiccups in laughter and soon Bokuto his pressing his face into Akaashi’s sweaty chest, laughing with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate Daishou, he's like the only Haikyuu character that I can't tolerate haha
> 
> Comments kudos and predictions are always appreciated!


	9. Frustration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew I've had some technical difficulties posting this.  
> But hello lovelies! We've got five chapters to go, are you ready for the madness that ensues?  
> This chapter was fun to write, mostly because of Konoha but other reasons.  
> Anyways, happy Wednesday and enjoy!~

“I thought I told you to never call me on this number,” the man growls into the receiver.

Daishou cackles humorlessly on the other line, “ _You weren’t picking up the other phone, the phone you_ stole _, and I’ve been calling you for the past two days. You told me we would never be caught. And do you know where I am right now? I’m in fucking jail because of you_.”

“I mean, I’m not in jail so that does not apply to me. And, well, clearly you didn’t do a good job on your part,” the man smirks and runs fingers through his hair, “I can’t help it that your girlfriend can read you like an open book.”

“ _I hope they find you. I hope you have to go through the same hell I’m going through_.” Daishou’s voice trembles and he sniffs, “ _Actually, I hope it’s worse for you_.”

The man leans forward in his seat on the couch. He checks to see if the other occupant of the apartment is listening, but they’ve been fumbling in the kitchen for quite some time now, the crackle of the stove loud enough to drown out his voice in the living room. However, he keeps his voice low in case they do come back in to the room. “They’re not going to find me, you know why? Because they’re a bunch of imbeciles. They caught you before they caught me and I’ve been at it for months. They haven’t even noticed their precious agent’s phone has gone missing. So, I think I’m safe.”

Daishou sneers, “ _They’re close. There’s a lot of things pointing at you, you sick bastard. I hope you fucking rot when they find you_.”

The man laughs softly, “Well if they can find me I hope we’re cellmates. And then we can have really romantic evenings. Doesn’t that sound fun?” The sharp intake of breath on the other line says otherwise. “Do not call me again.”

He disconnects the call just in time for the other occupant to return, eyebrow rising in curiosity. He offers a smile and tries not to make it aware that his heart is trying to fight its way from his chest.

 

* * *

 

Friday passes in a hungover haze, the entire department is sluggishly moving about their day. Barely any work gets done that day and nobody complains about it, blaming their splitting headaches for the lack of work. Some half hearted teasing is directed at Akaashi as they notice his slight limp and the fact that his neck looks like it got mauled. However, Daichi is in a similar state and he’s able to direct the attention to the broader man, laying his head on the desk afterwards. Saturday, Akaashi does not have to go in but he was always on call. It is a peaceful day spent in the apartment with Bokuto, watching movies and making a homemade meal.

Sunday is a half day for Akaashi, going over documents. The warrant still hasn’t been processed because of the weekend, the judge off duty for the two days. There isn’t much investigating they can do without the warrant available to them. They try speaking to Daishou again, seeing if they can coerce him into giving him a name or _anything_ really. But the snake doesn’t budge, even though he looks visibly shaken.

Monday comes with a coffee induced bout of energy, thanks to Bokuto accidentally asking for a shot of espresso in both coffees and not just his own. Akaashi feels as if he’s visibly shaking when he settles into his desk at around nine that morning, later than he usually comes in. He flits about a bit before he actually settles which earn amused glances from Konoha and Sarukui.

When he sees a copy of a warrant on his desk he sighs in relief, leaning into the cushion of the chair. He wants to kiss it but that surely would gain some more comments from the other agents and he does not want to deal with that at the moment. Not when his heart is about to fall out of his chest because it’s beating so face. That damn Bokuto putting espresso in his coffee. So he picks it up and reads it over before waving it over his head, “Did you all see this?”

“Yeah, Kuroo gave us each a copy this morning,” Daichi explains, lifting his own slightly.

“How do you want to split everything up?” Akaashi asks, looking at each of the agents.

“Kuroo wants me and Azumane to go with him to search the apartment,” Daichi explains, clapping Asahi on the back. Asahi trembles slightly but nods, edging away from Daichi.

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with the phone company to get his phone records,” Konoha explains, “But they’re assholes and have me on hold right now. Sarukui’s trying too.” Sarukui gives a thumbs up at the sound of his name as he murmurs into the phone. Akaashi eyes Lev and Yaku.

“We were going to go through social media and emails,” Yaku explains and Lev lacks words. Akaashi nods and logs into his computer.

“I have already been through his Facebook so I guess I’ll check again,” Akaashi states casually as he waits for his computer to load.

“You know that’s illegal right…?” Yaku asks slowly and Akaashi just shrugs.

“We’re part of the government, Yaku-san,” Akaashi begins flatly, “We do twisted things to get our way and if anybody ever found out I probably would not get in trouble because it helped solve half this nightmare.” Yaku licks his lips and sets his eyes on his own screen, not bothering to argue. Akaashi smirks in a small victory and opens the browser.

The next hour contains mindless searching. Daichi and Asahi leave halfway through, departing with a wave. All that can be heard is Sarukui’s soft talking and the typing of the other four in the room. Konoha has a mild break down, finally hanging up the phone company and exclaiming that they “ _have a boner for Sarukui_.” Lev gets a kick out of this and is barking with laughter, followed by a noisy “ _shut up_!” from Yaku and sends him sprawling across the floor. Akaashi just rolls his eyes, wondering how they’re all professionals in the room.

Akaashi is scrolling through Daishou’s Facebook after logging in to it, looking through his photos and his timeline to see any friends that have popped up recently. He takes down the names of those who appear frequently, making sure to go back and check their profiles afterwards to see their mutual friends. Most haven’t been active in quite some time and do not seem to have much contact with Daishou. However, they would still remain on the list.

He scrolls farther back in Daishou’s photos than he probably should but he’s so caught up in looking that he can’t stop himself. Plus, there aren’t many photos to begin with so he is being thorough.

When he gets to the album labeled college, Akaashi really isn’t expecting to find anything significant. College was years ago for Daishou and if Akaashi could recall he was only a year older than himself. As he’s clicking, he really does not expect to see a familiar, multicolored haired, golden eyed man that he is all too acquainted with. Photo after photo contains the both of them, apparently having been close in college.

Akaashi’s teeth grind into each other harder and harder as he clicks through the photos.

“Um, Akaashi-san?” Lev asks, looking at him with big green eyes.

Akaashi lifts his head, tearing his head away from his screen, “What is it Haiba-kun?”

“Well I could hear you grinding your teeth from over here and it sounds like you’re going to break your jaw. You shouldn’t do that you know, it’s not good for your teeth.” Lev says matter of factly.

Akaashi huffs in laughter, “Thank you for being so up to speed in dental hygiene, Haiba-kun.” It comes out more vicious than he’s intending and everybody in the room looks taken aback as he stands, swiping his cell phone from the desk. He stalks from the room and makes his way to the bathroom, hoping that nobody follows him.

He locks himself in the stall and calls the person who’s got him grinding his teeth in the first place, praying that they pick up. He chews on his nails as he hears the telltale “ _Hey hey ‘Kaashi! What’s up?_ ”

“You have thirty seconds to explain to me why I just found _multiple_ pictures of you on Daishou Suguru’s Facebook page. And don’t you dare lie to me, Bokuto-san, because this is very crucial.” Akaashi basically seethes and leans against the door.

“ _Uh_ ,” it’s quiet on the other line. Akaashi is shaking in anger and a little from the lasting effects of the espresso and he curls his hand at his side. He counts to thirty and Bokuto still has not said a word.

“Bokuto-san. This… This looks really suspicious, you know this right?”

“ _Yes I know I just…_ ”

“If anybody else in this department found those pictures you would be hauled in here by your belt loops. It would not matter at all that we’re dating. You’re in multiple pictures and you can’t even deny that.”

“ _I know! I know… I just… I haven’t spoken to him in years so it just slipped my mind._ ”

“It looked like you were more than acquaintances though, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi tries to keep his breathing under control but he’s having a hard time when Bokuto is avoiding the very important question being posed. “Certainly when you found out it was him that was helping with these murders you would have remembered your friendship with him, right?”

“ _Yes Akaashi but I-_ “

“Well if you remembered then why didn’t you say anything?!” Akaashi’s voice bounces back at him off the walls and he sucks in a deep breath. He presses his forehead to the cool metal of the stall, steel gray eyes slipping closed.

“ _I’m sorry_.” Bokuto sounds dejected and that honestly just furthers Akaashi’s anger.

“I need you to come down here to answer a few questions,” Akaashi says, trying to maintain calm. “Preferably now, please.”

“ _I’m at work, Keiji_.”

“I think the murders of more than twenty people are a little more important than constructing a _fucking_ building. So if you could kindly come down here right now and answer a few questions for us, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“… _Alright I’ll be there soon. Just… could you tell me the address? And who am I supposed to talk to?_ ”

“There will be somebody waiting for you when you get here. I’ll text you the address. See you soon, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi hangs up before Bokuto can get another word in and he feels awful. Not because of what he had said but because his boyfriend was being dragged into this mess unnecessarily.

He exits the bathroom after sending Bokuto the address and splashing water on his face. Akaashi stares at his reflection, eyes blown wide with irritation and teeth still pulled back in a grimace. He does not look like a friendly face right now.

Akaashi can’t help but remember Daishou’s words in a time like this. _If a serial killer was standing right in front of you, would you know?_ But Akaashi’s entire being is telling him that no, Bokuto-san could never hurt anybody, not even if he had to. But the way Daishou had looked at him when he had said it and the way things were turning out at that moment made him over think everything. He doesn’t want to believe but should he keep an open mind?

Akaashi pushes the thought from his head because no, he can’t even entertain the idea.

He doesn’t head back to his desk, opting to find Suga instead. Suga would most likely be the one conducting the interview, being the head interrogator on the case. Bokuto would be the first of Daishou’s… friends or acquaintances or _whatever_ to be interviewed so this is crucial.

Akaashi gently knocks on the partially open door with his knuckle and waits for the soft call of _“Come in!_ ” from inside before stepping in to the room. He closes it beside him and looks into Suga’s smiling face, the silver haired man’s hands folded neatly in front of him. “Akaashi! How are you doing?”

Akaashi offers a meek smile and nods, “I’m fine, and yourself Sugawara-san?”

“I’m alright,” Suga sighs and relaxes into his chair, lifting a few manila folders, “Just trying to make sense of everything Daishou has said so far. It’s not going anywhere. What’s up though? You don’t usually come here, that’s Daichi’s job.”

Akaashi nods, “I have somebody coming, um… an acquaintance of Daishou-san’s. To be interviewed of course.”

Suga perks up and nods, grinning, “Ah alright. When should they be here?”

“I told him that he should be here as soon as he possibly can. So, soon.”

Suga taps a pen on the wood of the desk and hums, “Sounds good to me. Have you informed the front yet?” Akaashi shakes his head. “Ah okay. I can do that for you if you’d like, if you could just give me this mystery person’s name please.”

“Bokuto Koutarou.” Akaashi sounds like he’s in physical pain saying the name.

Suga is already dialing the front desk, the phone halfway to his ear and fingers poised over the buttons when Akaashi states who it is. But he pauses when he hears the name, tilting his head and looking at Akaashi, “Isn’t that-“

“Yes.” Akaashi hisses and looks at his feet. Suga’s eyebrows pinch together but he doesn’t say anything. “Please let me know when he’s arrived.” Akaashi walks from the room, pulling the door shut behind him before Suga can utter another word. When he gets back to his own work space, Konoha and Lev are crowded around his desk, looking through the pictures he had left open.

The two scramble back when they notice Akaashi enter, guilty looks on their faces. He sets his jaw and lowers himself into the chair, exiting out of the browser. “Are you okay, Akaashi-san? You sounded upset when you left.” Lev asks hesitantly.

“Well since you already saw it’s no use lying,” Akaashi sighs and shoots a glare in Lev’s direction, “Bokuto-san apparently knows Daishou-san. And before you ask, no I didn’t have a clue.”

“That’s… a big deal.” Yaku says slowly. Akaashi sends him a look that says _you think?_

Sarukui clears his throat, “I hate to be the bearer of even more bad news but… I have some.”

“What is it?” Akaashi asks, putting a hand to his forehead.

“We traced all the numbers Daishou called and messaged from two weeks prior to the most recent murders and… did we ever find Terushima’s phone when he was killed?” Sarukui’s voice trails off in the middle of statement.

Akaashi blinks, “I... I don’t recall. Why?”

Sarukui huffs, “Well, this bastard has been using his phone. I have all the numbers of people he’s called and their names and Terushima’s name was on the list and… it was strange and I asked them to confirm that to me and they said it’s his. And then I checked my phone because I still have his contact and sure enough, it’s his. Which means that we’re being toyed with even harder.”

Akaashi sucks in a deep breath. This is the worst Monday he’s had in a long time. With the mess of Bokuto lying to him and now the mystery of Terushima’s phone being used for crimes, he didn’t think it could get much worse. “Sarukui-san… please tell me that my boyfriend’s name and number is not on the list of people he’s contacted recently.”

Sarukui holds the sheet out to him, “It’s not, but these are those who are. I know you’ve been compiling a list so if any of the names match up those could be their guys.”

Akaashi’s eyes run the length of the page. Sarukui had split up the numbers by date and circled the two days between where the murder occurred. Like the man had said, Bokuto’s name is not on the list but Terushima’s is. “Is there a way that we could track the location of where the phone calls were made?” Akaashi looks at his coworkers hopefully.

Konoha scoffs, “I don’t think so. Not with cell phones at least. Maybe landlines.”

“You’d have to figure out which cell phone tower they were closest to,” Lev chimes in, “But you wouldn’t be able to pinpoint an exact like… coordinates. I think it would be useless.”

“I think it would be beneficial if we could get the list of numbers Terushima has called as well,” Akaashi states and looks around the room, the other agents nodding in agreement. “Did anybody else find anything?”

Yaku sighs, “There’s nothing in his emails. I think they just communicate by phone calls because there are no texts either.”

Akaashi nods and skims the list of numbers and names, then looks over to his own list of names. “Have we heard back from Sawamura-san and Azumane-san yet?” Everyone in the room shakes their heads and Akaashi exhales. At least they have names and numbers now. “Have any of you spoken to the chief?” The silence says that no, nobody had spoken to him.

“And Sergeant Kuroo is with Sawamura and Azumane so…” Konoha spreads his arms out and tucks his hands behind his head, leaning back, “You’re the only person we have to tell right now since you’re the top agent on this case.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes and starts typing up an email, “Well I need you guys to help me with getting in touch with the people on this list. And we need to talk to Daishou-san’s boss still.”

“You got it!” Konoha said. It takes Akaashi around ten minutes to finish composing the email and sends it every one in the room. They split it up amongst themselves and then the room is filled with the quiet murmurs of them all taking into the phones.

It takes an hour of waiting around and speaking to Daishou’s friends and acquaintances for Suga to interrupt them. He says hello to everybody before cocking his head in Akaashi’s direction, “Akaashi our guest is here.”

Akaashi nods and says a few more words to the person on the other line before hanging up. He stands up and smoothes his tie down, wiping sweaty palms on his thighs. He’s only slightly nervous to hear Bokuto’s words. He is still beyond angry with the man but he chooses to suppress it in order to hear what he has to say for himself rationally.

He follows Suga from the room and Suga fidgets slightly, “It’s not my place to tell you what to do but I think it would be better if you weren’t in the room with us when I’m questioning him.”

Akaashi sighs and nods, “You’re probably right. I wouldn’t want to cause his answers to differ in my presence.”

Suga smiles softly, “Glad we agree!” They stop in front of the open archway of the room next to the interview room. “I’m sure he had a good reason to keep his mouth shut. Don’t fret too much.” He pats Akaashi’s shoulder sympathetically before opening the door to the other side of the one way mirror.

Akaashi crosses his arms over his chest and watches intently as Suga slips into the seat across from Bokuto with a kind smile on his face. He lays a folder on the table and drums his fingers on it for a moment. Bokuto looks visibly nervous, gnawing worryingly on his bottom lip. “I hope you weren’t waiting long in here.” Suga starts, trying to ease him into the conversation.

Bokuto laughs nervously. It’s louder than it needs to be and he wrings his hands in his lap, “No not at all. I’ve only been here… ten minutes or something? Your desk lady is very nice.”

“Ah, yes, Yachi-san is very kind, if not skittish at times.” Suga laughs. “How have you been since Thursday?”

“Fine I guess. Work’s rough but nothing I can’t handle. Got a few scrapes and bruises but nothing hospital-worthy which is good. Um, what about you?” Bokuto asks. He eyes Suga suspiciously, wondering when they are going to really get in to it.

“I’m pretty good. Shall we get in to this?” Suga asks and Bokuto nods eagerly. “I just want to make sure you know that you’re not in trouble, you weren’t even on our radar until today. Akaashi is clearly upset though and you can never be too careful…” Suga hums softly as he opens the folder. 

“Was he really mad?” Bokuto asks, staring at Suga intently. Suga is taken aback by the strong gaze and he clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably under Bokuto’s golden eyes.

“Akaashi is a somewhat hard to read most of the time,” Suga dares sneak a glance at the wall he knows Akaashi is standing behind, “But it was clear in that moment that he was upset. Furious, even. We’ve been working on this case for quite some time now and you knowing something that we don’t is a possibility now that we have evidence that you know Daishou. He’s just on edge and all and the easiest way to calm his nerves is if you could tell me how you know Daishou-san and what your relationship is with him.”

Bokuto sucks in a breath of air and Akaashi curls his fingers into a fist. He hopes that Bokuto tells the truth or at least says something. He can feel his anger bubbling up in his chest once more; the longer Bokuto hesitates, the more his anger swells. It’s like a slowly inflating balloon threatening to pop due to too much helium.

“Daishou was my college roommate,” Bokuto explains slowly. Suga’s mouth falls open involuntarily and he shifts, waiting for Bokuto to elaborate. “Only for that first year though. I only went to college for a year.”

“Did that have something to do with Daishou or…?”

Bokuto laughs bitterly, “No, just my stupid mistakes. I had a full ride on a volleyball scholarship. But I fucked up one too many times and got myself kicked out. I was a dumb kid, you know how it is.”

Suga frowns and nods, tapping his fingers on his thigh, “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Bokuto waves his hand, “It’s alright. I like my job right now, it pays the bills. Is there anything else you wanted to know?”

Suga straightens and clears his throat, smile returning to his face, “Ah, yes. Could you just tell me a little about his personality? What he was like and everything will suffice.”

“He was… interesting,” Bokuto rubs the back of his neck and laughs a little, “We didn’t get along in the beginning. He was quiet but loud at the same time. He and I always ended up at the same parties though, somehow. He was quite manipulative towards everybody. Somehow he had everybody twisted around his finger.” He shakes his head, “He was also polite to the point of being scary. He never was in your face about things, slightly in the background but always… _there_.”

Suga hums approvingly and writes some stuff on his sheet of paper, “Do you know anybody he could be working with? Anybody else you keep in touch with from college that you know he might be in contact with as well?”

Bokuto taps his chin with his finger, “He had a friend who would come to visit him a lot but I don’t know if they’re still talking. His name started with an ‘N’…. Um… No… Na… Nu… Numai! Yeah that’s it. Numai.”

Akaashi recognizes the name from the list he had pulled from Facebook. He would make sure to mark him off as somebody of high priority.

Suga grins at him and nods, “Thank you so much Bokuto. I don’t really have much else to ask you, just wanted to know your relationship with him. Thank you for your cooperation.” They shake hands and Suga stands, Bokuto following. Akaashi crosses his arms and heads out into the hallway where the other two are.

“Would you like me to walk him out or shall you?” Suga asks, looking between the two.

Akaashi chews his lip, trying to avoid the hopeful look Bokuto is giving him. He turns away, shoving his hands in to his pockets, “I have a lot of work to do, so if you could see him out Sugawara-san it would be greatly appreciated.” And then he walks away from them, Bokuto’s pout boring in to the back of his head as he walks away.

He knows he’s being petty but this was crucial. He had been working on this case for almost a year now and they were finally getting close to the end. Bokuto had basically withheld important information from them and Akaashi is incredibly annoyed. He sits back at his desk without a word, everybody knowing better than to confront him. For once, he was grateful for the bickering and tapping in the background as he succumbs to his thoughts.


	10. Nos. 26 & 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did y'all really think there wouldn't be more murders?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. As I was editing this chapter I was dying internally because I forgot I loved the beginning of it. Also, next week's chapter is my absolute _favorite_ in the entire work so I may give in and post it this weekend. But don't hold me to that. All in all I hope you enjoy this. And for those of you wondering where the KuroKen aspect of this in, there's a nice scene with them in it

He has really out done himself with this one.

Husband and wife lay completely mutilated in the center of the living room. There is so much blood it may as well have painted the walls. In the moonlight he can dimly see the blood dancing along the floor, pooling in the rug and rolling over the wood floor beautifully. He licks his lips, looking at the twisted neck of the wife, eyes blown out in two black and red holes.

As he remembers the screams of the husband behind a gag as he dragged the knife through the flesh of the wife he almost laughs. What a captivating sight it had been. He would never get tired of carving up the skin and drawing intricate patterns through flesh, watching the blood shoot out in a myriad of directions, painting the world a bloody mess.

He cleans up slightly in the bathroom, washing off his shoes so he does not track blood across the floors. He makes sure he’s careful to not leave any finger prints; he’s wearing gloves of course but he can never be too cautious.

This time when he leaves through the front door, he pulls it shut behind him. He wants to see how long it takes for the FBI and police to come sniffing around and find these two lovers in a dream.

He does not note, however, that the strange feeling sinking in his chest is remorse.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi barely speaks to Bokuto for the next two weeks. One morning they sit for a tension filled coffee date before Bokuto excuses himself to go to work down the street. Akaashi had just shaken his head and continued to idly trace patterns on the recyclable paper of the coffee cup, intricate shapes of nothing.

In those two weeks they work to finish the case. They continue to speak to friends and colleagues of Daishou, as well as Daishou himself. He rarely says a thing and what he does say is either taunts or nothing of importance. They’re slowly sinking back to the fruitless state from before they had clues, before they met Daishou, and everybody is getting frustrated.

None of the agents expect the door to burst open that day to their large office to reveal a panting Kuroo. It appears as if he had run to their office and he leans in the doorway to catch his breath. “You look in top shape, Serg.” Konoha jokes, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Kuroo runs his fingers through the mess of black hair on his head and points a finger at Akaashi and then Daichi, “You two. Let’s go.”

Akaashi and Daichi share a look before hastily collecting their jackets and rushing from the room behind Kuroo. They’re in the elevator in seconds, Kuroo jamming his finger into the lobby button impatiently. “Is everything okay?” Daichi asks as he eyes the sergeant warily.

Kuroo presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and rubs furiously, “ _No_. I just got a frantic call from the police station saying they found two more victims. It’s a fucking mess. Blood and guts everywhere.”

Daichi looks at his watch in confusion and then back at Kuroo, eyebrows furrowed, “In the middle of the day? That’s strange, normally they’re found early in the morning.”

They haul ass through the lobby, people moving out of their way for them. They climb into Kuroo’s car, pulling out of the lot in record speed. Akaashi barely has his seatbelt on before they’re tearing down the road, sirens on. People move out of their way in an instant, moving to the side of the road so Kuroo can whiz by them. He clutches the steering so tight that his knuckles turn white.

“It’s a house at the very edge of Tokyo… Like it borders near the edge in the countryside. It belongs to a government woman and her husband.” Kuroo glances nervously in the rearview mirror at Akaashi sitting in the backseat. “Yahaba called me as soon as he was on location and didn’t have any information aside from what the lady’s assistant had told him.”

“Did you get any names…?” Akaashi asks, leaning forward.

“Yeah, I got their names. Does Bokuto have a sister?” Kuroo inquires suddenly, eyeing the road as he swerves through cars.

Akaashi’s eyebrows pinch together and he stares at the back of Kuroo’s head, “I don’t understand how that has anything to do with this right now?”

“Can you just answer my question?” Kuroo asks, looking over his shoulder quickly at him, “Please?”

Akaashi exhales loudly, “Yes, he has a sister. Why?”

“Because, this woman’s name was Bokuto Katsumi and if Bokuto has a sister who works in the government then it’s most likely her. As you and I both know, there aren’t many women in the government, so…”

Akaashi’s mouth opens and closes like a fish as he tries to gather his thoughts, “She does. Work in the government I mean. He mentioned that to me once.”

Kuroo lets out a frustrated grunt and slammed his palm into the wheel. Daichi looks between the two and bites his cheek, “Have you told Bokuto yet?”

“No. I didn’t have time. As soon as I got the call I came rushing for you two. I’m not going to tell the families until it’s confirmed that it’s Bokuto Katsumi and her husband.” Kuroo states as calm as he can through grit teeth. The car ride is tense after that, nobody saying a word until they pull up to a small, cozy-looking house on the border of Tokyo.

They pull their latex gloves on and step on to the crime scene. There’s a woman cowering while the police question her. She is very pale and visibly shaking and Akaashi wonders why they asked _Kyoutani_ of all officers to comfort and talk to her. Kyoutani has one of the scariest faces without even meaning to. The poor woman looks scared to death. Of course, this could also be due to seeing her boss dead on the floor and her insides turned outside but…

The crime scene has barely been touched aside from the numbered plates on the floor where they mark evidence. The bodies are slowly being moved – or put back together – from where they lay on the floor originally, photographer taking reference photos the whole time they move. Akaashi gulps, the stench in the room too strong to have been a murder that took place in the same day. This must have happened a couple of days ago.

“Kozume-san.” Akaashi says as he approaches the blonde, crouched over one of the bodies.

Kenma flinches slightly in surprise at Akaashi’s voice behind him and fixes honey eyes on him, “Hello Akaashi.”

Akaashi nods and looks at the body on the floor, “Is this Bokuto-san?” The words taste sour in his mouth and he can’t help but wonder what if this hadn’t been Bokuto’s sister but Bokuto himself? He does not want to think about it.

Kenma nods slightly and avoids eye contact, “They confirmed that it’s his sister. There are pictures of them together in some frames along the walls to the bedroom.” He motions with a bloodied, gloved hand towards the hallway and refuses to look Akaashi in the face. Akaashi is slightly suspicious but ignores it in favor of going in the direction where Kenma had pointed. He sees pictures lining the walls immediately, taking the time to examine each one.

There are a few wedding photos of just the husband and wife. Katsumi has the same eyes as Bokuto, the only telltale sign that they are siblings. Her hair is jet black and although she looks happy, Akaashi can tell that she is more reserved. There is a family photo of her with Bokuto and their mother. Bokuto’s hair is slicked back, a hairstyle that looks particularly weird on him but also strangely nice, but it’s the same two-toned shade. Their mother’s hair is graying in the photo, looking natural unlike Bokuto’s.

There’s another photo of when they were younger, along with a few of the husband’s family. Akaashi touches his finger to Bokuto’s younger face, looking at how his cheeks were puffy but his smile was still just as bright as it is today.

He walks in to the bedroom, examining the sheets strewn about. There is no blood in this room and Akaashi wonders how the Owl got both of them in to the living room without a trace of blood anywhere else. It disturbs him to know that the Owl is so skilled and manipulative; he had to be manipulative or else he wouldn’t have coaxed the couple in to the living room. How could a person do this? It still baffles him.

Akaashi doesn’t know how much time passes but he feels a hand on his shoulder and jerks in surprise, turning to look in to Daichi’s face. “Hey, we’re about done here. You okay?” Concern etches into the lines of Daichi’s face.

Akaashi exhales and nods, running fingers through his curls, “Yeah, I’m just… This was Bokuto-san’s sister. It’s… disturbing that it can happen to anybody, really. I’m just worried about him and his mother, to be honest.”

Daichi offers a smile but it’s hesitant, “Bokuto seems like he’ll be able to handle it. I don’t think you need to worry as much as you are.”

A hint of a smile traces Akaashi’s lips but it is washed away by the worry pinching in his eyebrows, “I’m a worrier, Sawamura-san.”

Daichi huffs out a laugh, steering him from the bedroom, “Oh, I know. But he’s going to be fine after a while, he’s a strong guy. Let’s get back so we can handle everything okay?” Akaashi nods and lets him direct him out of the house. He can see Kenma speaking to Kuroo by the car, mouth pulled tight with distaste at whatever Kuroo is saying. When his eyes flick over Akaashi he abruptly turns and walks back to his own coworkers.

“Everything alright, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asks, tilting his head to the side.

Kuroo waves his hand dismissively, “Yeah, Kenma’s just being paranoid. You know how he is. Shall we?” He gestures to the car and the three of them pile in, making the journey back to the facility. The car ride was silent, the fact that two more people are dead finally sinking in. Guilt plagues all of them. The fact that they have let this go on for almost a year weighs on them and the guilt they shoulder will be with them for some time.

When they get back, phone calls are arranged and the families are brought in. Nishinoya and Suga sit in the big conference room with the victims’ families. Akaashi can see them from his desk through the tiny glass panels of the room. He sees the tops of Bokuto’s spiked hair but can’t see his expression.

“Yo,” Konoha says, waving a hand in front of Akaashi’s face. He hadn’t noticed that the blonde had wheeled himself over so he was sitting right in front of him, not daring to move in to Terushima’s vacant seat. “He’s fine, you know.”

Akaashi pinches the bridge of his nose, “I know I just worry. You know how it is.”

The remaining hour in the office is spent anxious. Akaashi steals glances in the room as Nishinoya speaks to them, Suga interjecting every so often. The families are dismissed before Akaashi is but the entirety of the office waves Akaashi off and watch as he dashes out of the room, jacket and phone in his hand.

“Bokuto-san!” He calls down the hall. Bokuto whips his head around, arm around a shorter salt-and-pepper haired woman. He blinks owlish gold eyes at Akaashi before smiling slightly. It still holds some light but it’s barely there.

Surprisingly, it isn’t Bokuto that answers but his mother. “Ah, you must be the wonderful Akaashi-kun. I recognize your voice.” She doesn’t sound as cheerful or energetic as she had over the phone the few times he has spoken to her.

“Yes. It’s very nice to meet you Bokuto-san.” He bows politely before adding, “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Tears shine in bright brown eyes, a sad smile curling over her face. Bokuto really is her spitting image it’s almost scary. “Yes, we are too. I’ll be in the car, Koutarou.” She kissed his cheek before turning away, wiping at her eyes.

Bokuto shoves his hands in to his pockets and avoids Akaashi’s eyes. He doesn’t seem that sad but people deal with grief differently. Maybe he just doesn’t know how to respond to something this terrible. He’s already had to deal with his father’s death years ago and now his only sibling is dead.

Akaashi wraps his arms around Bokuto’s shoulder, fingers smoothing over the back of his head. “Are you okay?” He asks softly.

Bokuto’s arms circle his waist and pull Akaashi to his chest, holding him against him tightly. Akaashi lets out a surprised noise but let’s himself be hugged, kissing Bokuto’s cheek lightly. “It’s just…” Bokuto begins to speak but trails off, at a loss for words.

Akaashi pulls back so he’s looking Bokuto in the eye, cupping both of his cheeks in his hands. “I know. It’s awful. We’re going to catch him though and then this nightmare will be over.” He rubs his thumbs over Bokuto’s cheeks. They aren’t wet like he thinks they should be.

Bokuto nods and covers Akaashi’s hands with his own, “Keiji…” He whispers, bringing their foreheads together. Akaashi’s cheeks flush and he has half a mind to remember they’re in the hallway of his work place but nobody else is in the hallway so he thinks they’re safe.

“Yes Koutarou?” Akaashi breathes against his lips, blinking at him.

“I… I love you. And, I’m sorry for not saying anything about Daishou,” Bokuto casts his eyes aside before giving Akaashi’s hand a squeeze.

Akaashi’s breath hitches in his throat. It has been quite some time since somebody has told him that they love him. But he knows the affection swelling in his chest is love and he doesn’t want to suppress it any longer. “I love you too.” And then he kisses him, thinking that this is a somewhat strange place for a love confession but rolls with it.

Bokuto kisses him feverishly, tears finally spilling from his closed eyes, catching on his lashes before rolling down his cheeks. Akaashi feels them on his fingers as they kiss, brushing them away. He pulls back and hugs him again, “It’s going to be okay, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto sniffs in his ear and holds him in a crushing embrace, gripping at the back of Akaashi’s dress shirt. “I hope so.” His breath catches a moment before he steps back, taking hold of Akaashi’s hand, “Will you have dinner with my mother and me?”

Akaashi opens and closes his mouth, “Is that okay?”

Bokuto nods enthusiastically, “Yes! It’ll be less sad if you’re there.”

Akaashi nods and smiles softly, “Alright then I’ll come to dinner.”

Bokuto grins although it’s not as bright as it could be. He takes Akaashi’s hand in his, grasping it tightly as he walks them out of the building and to his mother’s car. He holds the door open for Akaashi before getting in to the passenger’s seat himself.

Akaashi thinks that the dinner will be awkward but it’s surprisingly fun. Bokuto’s mother insists that Akaashi call her by her first name, Emiko, and proceeds to tell stories of Bokuto when he was younger as well as stories of her daughter. More than once she catches herself before can cry, tears evident in her golden eyes but she’s too stubborn to let them fall.

“Oh my goodness,” Emiko continues to say, waving chopsticks around, “You wouldn’t believe the things this kid did when he was younger. Do you know how many times I was called down to the school because of him?”

Akaashi looks at her, amused, “I can only guess that it was a number of times.”

Bokuto turns red as his mother responds, “You are absolutely correct! Always getting in to trouble this one. You’d think because he was so brilliant in volleyball that he would learn to stay out of trouble but nope!”

Bokuto whines, “Mom, I was not that bad.”

Emiko raises an eyebrow out him, “Koutarou, you set the _girl’s_ bathroom on fire. You got kicked-” Bokuto slaps the table to cut her off so she won’t continue her sentence. Thankfully she just looks at him amused and doesn’t press.

Akaashi snorts suddenly and Bokuto stares at him a moment, not aware that Akaashi could make a noise like that. Then he’s joining in on Akaashi’s quiet laughter with his own thunderous one, trying to shake off what his mother had been trying to say, Emiko shaking her head disappointedly. “How did you set the girls’ bathroom on fire?” Akaashi asks once he’s wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and his laughter died down.

“You see me and the volleyball manager were trying to… cook food with a lighter,” Bokuto explains.

Akaashi stares at him blankly, “Bokuto-san, please tell me you were not that stupid.”

Bokuto grins and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “Okay but hear me out! It wasn’t my idea. Yukie roped me in to it because well, food is my weakness. And practice ran late and we were too cheap to go buy food so she brought stuff from home.”

“And you thought it would be fine to cook it with a lighter because…?”

Bokuto throws his hands up, laughing, “I don’t know! Man, that was fun.”

“But how did the bathroom get set on fire? And why were you doing this in the female restroom?” Akaashi inquires, folding his hands in to his lap.

Bokuto thinks, “We definitely set the package on fire and then threw it in the garbage and that lit the whole garbage on fire. And we knew nobody would come looking for us in there!”

Akaashi laughs lightly and shakes his head, “Unbelievable, truly.”

“Come on, I bet you have some wild stories with Tetsu and Kenma right?” Bokuto asks, looking at him excitedly. Emiko looks intrigued too, trying not to look eager as she shoves food in her mouth. Oh yes, Bokuto is definitely her son.

“I don’t think the word ‘wild’ and Kenma belong in the same sentence,” Akaashi says truthfully, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “But we never had any wild ideas. Kuroo-san was a giant nerd in high school, college prep classes and everything. He was not going to risk getting kicked off the volleyball team or reprimanded in class.”

Bokuto pouts, “That’s so lame, come on!”

Akaashi grins slightly, “Sorry Bokuto-san. But at least you have the best wild high school stories right?”

Bokuto perks up, “You’re right! My stories are definitely the best, hey! You know, there was this one time when me and the libero, Komi, got stuck in the net…”

The night proceeds just like that, with Bokuto departing with his mother. He tells Akaashi that he doesn’t want to leave her alone especially with everything going on. Of course, Akaashi understands and isn’t upset at all, leaving Bokuto with a final kiss before heading home and settling in.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Kenma can’t sleep. Thoughts plague him and he had expressed them to Kuroo earlier that day but the man hadn’t listened, too stubborn to hear about Kenma’s hunch. It was getting too much to hold it in lately the bottle on the cap finally popping off.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Kenma says suddenly, rolling over to face Kuroo. The room is dark but his eyes are characteristically bright, yellow cat eyes shining with determination.

“Hm?” Kuroo responds. He had been lulling to sleep before Kenma’s soft voice echoed against the walls. It is late after all, the pair having settled in bed a half hour ago.

“Bokuto. Don’t you think it’s weird that he isn’t affected by his sister’s death?” Kenma asks again. Kuroo exhales loudly and blinks his eyes open, scrubbing a hand over his face. His palm catches on the stubble growing across his chin.

“Not this again,” Kuroo mutters. “Akaashi told me he cried when he was done with Suga and Noya. People grieve differently, kitten. He might just be in shock. His sister and brother-in-law were just murdered he’s probably figuring out how to handle it all.”

Kenma shakes his head, strands of blonde hair flying around his chin. “Suga was telling me that when he and the psychologist were talking to him he was completely blank. His voice was tight and that… he didn’t seem to care at all. That’s not normal, Tetsurou.” His hands are shaking. He wants Kuroo to hear him out but because of his friendship with Bokuto he knows he won’t hear anything at all. But Kenma has this _feeling_ and he can’t shake it off.

Kuroo sighs again and runs his fingers through dark hair, messy from being tousled against the pillow. “Bokuto isn’t a monster, Kenma. If you’re doing this because you’re worried for Akaashi again…”

Kenma sits up and crosses his legs, placing his hands in his lap. His heart is racing, anger pumping through his veins and his face hot with it. Kuroo doesn’t understand him. “I’m not! His sister dies and he acts as if it’s not a big deal while his mother cries next to him. He was college roommates with the other killer. He’s seemingly never at Akaashi’s apartment when the murders occur. Akaashi’s never seen his apartment. He’s linked in this! Why can’t you see it?!” Kenma’s voice cracks when he raises it and it startles Kuroo. Kuroo can count the times on one hand where he’s heard Kenma raise his voice. He can add this to the list.

Kuroo sits up and looks at Kenma who is glaring at him through his bangs. “Listen, you’re tired and I’m tired and you’re not thinking clearly because you’re tired. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”

Kenma’s bottom lip trembles, “No. You’re missing clear signs, Kuro. This is evidence! He didn’t even try to cover up his tracks, isn’t that just a tiny bit suspicious? You never even brought him in as a suspect when you guys found out he was Daishou’s roommate.”

“We questioned him.” Kuroo corrects calmly. “And what tracks are there to cover? He’s not a suspect.”

“But you never did anything about it right? You never looked further into his file or his life or _anything_. You’re not even keeping an eye on him. And why? Because he’s Keiji’s boyfriend? Because you like him? Keiji’s going to be blind to all of this. You can’t let relationships affect a case, Tetsurou.”

“We know Bokuto, he’s harmless!”

“You need to separate your personal and work lives. He could hurt Keiji,” Kenma’s voice cracks and he curls his fingers over the soft fabric of the comforter. “Suga thinks he could be a suspect and so does Noya, they see what I’m talking about. And if Suga thinks so then Daichi probably thinks so too. I’m sure a lot of the agents are starting to see it.”

“Well I’m not Suga, or Noya, or Daichi.” Kuroo says roughly and gets out of the bed, beginning to open up drawers.

Kenma watches him intently, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to go sleep at Akaashi’s. Or maybe the station. You’re being irrational. Don’t you think I would know if somebody I’m close to was a killer?”

“I don’t think so. Would anybody really know? That’s what being a sociopath is, manipulative, cunning” Kenma huffs softly and digs his nails into the sheets.

“I think they would.” Kuroo finishes shoving clothes into a bag and hikes it over his shoulder. The couple stares at each other or a moment before Kuroo leaves without uttering another word. Kenma stares at the space Kuroo had just occupied and as he hears the door close, he lets out an aggravated grunt. He figured that Kuroo would have seen it but clearly he was wrong.

It’s frustrating when something is so painfully obvious and others just can’t see the truth.


	11. Nos. 28 & 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And if you don't know, now you know

Three weeks pass since the murder of the government worker. The apartment is dark save for the moonlight streaming in from the window. There’s movement in the bedroom, shifting amongst the sheets as the occupant tries to fall asleep. Their eyes slip closed and they feign sleep, waiting for the real thing to wash over them.

They’re half asleep, not registering the sound of the door opening and closing on the other end of the apartment. They clutch their pillow to their chest, breathing in the scent of their absent lover. It’s been too long since they’ve seen them.

Heavy footsteps pad towards the bedroom. The bed’s occupant rolls over, almost asleep. Breathing even, body relaxed, drifting into a state of unconsciousness.

That’s all disturbed with the utterance of a single word in the quiet room.

“Kenma.”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks pass since the murder of Bokuto’s sister. Akaashi accompanies Bokuto to the funeral, clutching his hand tightly. Bokuto has not cried since that first day, at least not in his presence. He tries to ask him questions but Bokuto dodges them all, plastering a smile on his face every time. Akaashi finally just decides to leave him alone.

Work drags. They keep looking for motives and it seems as if they’re turning into all the wrong places. With the most recent killing of the government worker it’s been trickier. Although they are a branch of the government, she came from a very different branch that nobody wants to delve in to.

Luckily they have Iwaizumi for that. He and Kuroo often go down to the government buildings to talk to coworkers, bringing them in for Suga if necessary. Everything comes up fruitless, as usual. Frustration is a common occurrence in the office these days.

Akaashi begins to feel as if people are keeping things from him. Whenever he talks to Suga he can see that there is something secretive behind that kind smile, something not so genuine. He _tries_ to talk to Kenma but Kenma just darts in the other direction. It may have something to do with the fight he and Kuroo had, which is still ridiculously going on.

Kuroo had taken up residence on Akaashi’s couch these last two weeks. Sometimes Akaashi had to kick him out and make him sleep in his office so he could get some alone time with Bokuto in his apartment. Bokuto always claimed that his apartment was way too messy for Akaashi to come over and that kicking Kuroo out for the night wasn’t a bad thing.

One night both of them were there and Akaashi wanted to yell and tear his hair out. Never let Bokuto and Kuroo have a sleepover again was on the top of Akaashi’s mental list of things not to do.

Daichi also seems to be avoiding Akaashi, a guilty look on his face whenever he does look Akaashi in the eye. It is honestly getting annoying and Akaashi feels like snapping. But he doesn’t know how to approach the situation.

So, he does something stupid and goes to Tsukishima of all people for advice.

He knocks on the door to the Analytics department to find Tsukishima in there alone, playing Candy Crush on his computer. Akaashi didn’t even know that was possible but he was too stressed to do so. “Tsukishima-kun.” Akaashi says blankly. Tsukishima’s eyes don’t leave the screen.

“If you’re going to go off on a tangent on how I should be working right now I would save it. I sent Yamaguchi to get me some files and I’m waiting for him to get back.”

“These files weren’t in the database?” Akaashi asks, eyebrows raised.

Tsukishima scoffs and swivels around in his chair, “No because we’ve resorted to going back to the dinosaur era and have everything about this case written on paper. The sergeant said something about not wanting hackers to get the information but it’s all bullshit.”

Akaashi crosses his arms over his chest, “What do you need the files for?”

Tsukishima shrugs, “Just doing my job.” His answer is vague and Akaashi narrows his eyes.

“Is there something you know that I don’t, Tsukishima-kun?” He watches Tsukishima flinch slightly and that’s all answers he needs.

“Why would you think that?” Tsukishima asks, turning back to his game so he doesn’t have to look Akaashi in the face. Akaashi moves around the room, standing behind Yamaguchi’s desk so he’s facing Tsukishima now. Tsukishima dutifully avoids his gaze.

Akaashi clicks his tongue, “Because you won’t look me in the face right now. Half the people in my department won’t look me in the face either. And I am very confused. So, is there something you are not telling me?”

Yamaguchi chooses then to rush back in to the room, “Kei I got the files you asked fo- _oh_ A-Akaashi-san!” The freckled man squeaks and clutches the manila folders to his chest tightly. Tsukishima heaves a sigh at his partner’s untimely arrival and Akaashi straightens. Yamaguchi looks like he wants to bolt.

“Yamaguchi-kun, maybe you can answer my question.”

Yamaguchi looks between Tsukishima and Akaashi, stepping back in to the door. He fumbles for the handle behind them, “Y-You know what? I-I think I forgot a file… Yeah, I forgot one. Pardon me!” He throws the door open and rushes out, footsteps echoing down the hall. Akaashi goes to run after him but when he’s through the doorway Yamaguchi has already rounded the corner and is gone.

Akaashi glares at the back of Tsukishima’s head, “You know, I’m the agent in charge of this case. If you’re hiding something from me that could be a very poor decision on your part.” It comes out as a sneer and he can see the way Tsukishima’s tense.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tsukishima says nonchalantly, “Shouldn’t you be asking your colleagues and not lil ol’ me down in Analytics?”

Akaashi releases a huff of air angrily through his nose and storms out and back to the agents’ room. He rips the door open and slams it shut behind him, looking over the faces of his bewildered coworkers. Daichi and Asahi are the only ones not looking at him and he hones his gaze on them.

Asahi cracks first, flickering brown eyes to meet steel gray ones. He quickly averts his gaze, flickering at him nervously a few more times. Daichi’s body is shaking, most likely because he’s bouncing his leg up and down under the table.

At last, Akaashi sighs dramatically and just sits back down, roughly jerking his computer back to life. _Fine_ if they wanted to be assholes and not fill them in, that’s their problem. Akaashi pulls up a few of the suspects’ files but the only information in them is basic. Tsukishima wasn’t kidding about Kuroo not wanting to put anything in the databases.

Akaashi drops his head into his hands and rubs at his eyes. It is going to be a long afternoon.

 

* * *

 

The next day begins much like the day before. Everybody is stressed and frustrated and tired. The usual suspects look anxious, like they know something is coming and are just waiting for it to happen. Akaashi can’t coax it out of anybody.

Over in Analytics, Tsukishima Kei takes his glasses off and rubs at his eyes. Working in the Analytics department can be exhausting, especially when staring at the same set of information for hours on end searching for clues, _anything_ that could help them solve this case. He continuously looks through the files of the last three murder cases from the Owl. He’s been staring at them for a long time and still has nothing.

He puts his glasses down and once again puts the files side by side. What he really wants to do is get up and start screaming, maybe tear some hair out but he can’t do that. He also can’t play a game like he normally would because some are banking on him to find something that could attach the case to their secret suspect.

After looking through the files for maybe the seventeenth time that day, he finds something.

Tsukishima stands up so quickly that the chair he is sitting him clatters to the ground. He gets a bit light headed but that doesn’t matter right now. The freckled man sitting across from him looks up instantly, “Ts-Tsukki?”

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima says through clenched teeth, “I need you to get me the files of every single person the Owl has killed.”

Yamaguchi opens his mouth and stutters, “U-Um that’s a-a lot are you sure-“

“Now, preferably.” Tsukishima has to brace himself on his desk. How had he not seen this before? How had _nobody_ seen this before?

Yamaguchi yelps and jumps up, scurrying out of the office. It takes him fifteen, maybe twenty minutes before he’s scrambling back inside with files spilling from his arms. Tsukishima wrenches them from his grip and looks through them frantically. He pulls specific pages from them, placing them on the desk and dropping the file to the floor once he’s done.

Yamaguchi worries his bottom lip as he watches him, “I-Is everything okay Tsukki?”

God, Tsukishima hates that nickname. But there is no time to dwell on that right now. He needs to get this information to somebody, _anybody_. He doesn’t know whether to bring it to the chief or the sergeant or the special agents department.

It would definitely appease Akaashi if he brought it to him.

“Yamaguchi I need a favor.” Tsukishima looks at said man as calmly as he can. But his hands are shaking and his heart is beating so hard against his frail chest that it almost hurts.

Yamaguchi blinks, “A-Anything for you Tsukki!”

“I need you to go tell the chief and the sergeant that I found something very important. And I need you to bring them to the conference room. Right. _Now_.” The urgency in his voice make Yamaguchi’s dark brown eyes widen and he slowly backs out of office again.

“I-I’m on it!” He hears Yamaguchi’s footsteps echo through the hall as he runs.

Tsukishima gathered some of the files before dashing out of the office in the opposite direction. He skids in front of the elevator, smashing the down button. _C’mon c’mon c’mon._ Tsukishima taps his foot and when the elevator doors ding open he makes his way inside, slamming skinny fingers on the button for the second floor. He hits the button to close the door too many times to count.

When the elevator doors reopen, Tsukishima is dizzy from adrenaline. He darts through the halls, slamming the door open to the special agents department. All of them look at him curiously and puzzled at his sudden burst into the room. He looks at all nine special agents, all rarely crowded in the room, barely able to say “ _conference room_ ” before he walks across the hall to the designated room.

He watches as the special agents pile in, taking seats at the long table. Tsukishima is standing at the end, hands pressing flat against the cool surface and the files stacked neatly in front of him.

“Is everything alright Tsukishima-kun?” Yaku asks as he takes his seat, straightening his tie.

Tsukishima opens his mouth to respond but Yamaguchi is suddenly flying through the door, Chief Iwaizumi and Sergeant Kuroo following calmly behind him. “This better be good Tsukki,” Kuroo smirked, leaning against the wall with arms crossed over his chest.

“R-Right,” Tsukishima’s face is heating up from all these people staring at him expectantly. He never gets nervous but the immense amount of pressure is weighing on him. “So I was looking through the victims’ files and noticed that every single one of them lived in a house or an apartment with the number twenty in the address.”

All is silent in the conference room.

Akaashi speaks up, “Terushima lived in room 320 of his apartment…”

Daichi leans back and scrubs a hand over his face as he looks at the files Tsukishima had began passing around, “Shit.”

Iwaizumi walks over to Tsukishima and stands next to him. The blonde tenses and eyes the Chief suspiciously. “Is it just ones with twenty in it or is it every apartment or house with 320?”

Tsukishima shakes his head, “Just ones with twenty in the address.”

Iwaizumi nods, “Somebody bring me a map.”

“I’ll go grab one!” Sarukui is in and out of the room in an instant, shoving the map into the chief’s hands. The man thanks him gruffly and everybody presses closer as it’s spread on the table. The map of Tokyo is cluttered and with a little teamwork they’re able to circle all the apartment buildings and housing areas where murders had occurred. They add dates to the circles to possibly make it more helpful.

Konoha, who had been standing on the edge of the crowd watching Iwaizumi circle the apartments, begins to make his way to the front. He stares at the map in awe before saying, “Hey, he’s making a fucking circle.”

Twelve sets of eyes stare at him. Konoha huffs and traces the circles around the map, “He’s making a circle around Tokyo.”

Akaashi runs his fingers through his hair and tugs. Nobody says a word. They never noticed this. This is crucial. The case could’ve been solved _months ago_ if they had realized this. “We could’ve saved Terushima…” he mutters as he traces the circle around Terushima’s apartment complex.

“Hey we may have found something,” Asahi started gently, “but we still don’t know where he’ll strike next or when. The dates are still too random to make a move.”

 “Where did the last two apartment murders occur?” Kuroo’s black eyes scan the map. Yaku points to one location and Lev points to the other. The circles are on the same side of the map, meaning they’re in the same part of the city but the circles are not close together. One is at the top and one is at the bottom.

Konoha exhales, “He seems to be working on the east end of the city.”

Kuroo pulls out a different colored pen and circles the apartment complexes between the two most recent ones, including his own, “If we had to guess then this is probably where he would strike next.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” Daichi asks, fingers carding through short brown hair, “Do we set up patrol near these apartments?”

All the gazes turn to Iwaizumi whose mouth is pulled taut. He taps his pen on the table a few times before looking around at those around him, “Let’s do it. Get in contact with the police. I want all teams to be paired with an unmarked police car every night outside one of these apartment buildings until we catch this fucker you got me?”

They all hum in agreement and Iwaizumi nods, “Everybody is dismissed. Get to work. We’re going to catch this motherfucker you hear me?” They all hum again and go to file out when Iwaizumi calls, “Akaashi, stay back for a moment.”

“Is everything okay, Iwaizumi-san?” Akaashi asks once everybody has departed.

Iwaizumi sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “I’m not going to put you on patrols.”

Akaashi presses his eyebrows together and stares at the chief for a moment. He cannot fathom why the chief wouldn’t put him on patrols when he was the one who appointed him the head chief of the case. “I don’t understand,” he finally says.

Iwaizumi exhales heavily, “I don’t want you to be out there alone. It’s dangerous.”

“I would have an officer with me. And if you’re so concerned about my safety then let me go with Kuroo-san.” Akaashi is trying to stay calm but it makes absolutely _no_ sense as to why he wouldn’t be allowed to stake out.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter, I need you here when everything goes down. You’re important to this case.”

“But do you not think I should be there when they catch him? I’ve wanted this since last August or September or _whenever_ all this bullshit started.” Akaashi grits his teeth, “I’m sorry Iwaizumi-san, I don’t mean to be rude but I feel as if everybody is keeping something from me and you are only confirming my suspicions.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond for a long pause. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say or he’s calculating a lie, Akaashi doesn’t know. But his response is only a weak, “I’m sorry” before he is pushing from the conference room. Akaashi stands there, red in the face from frustration and slight humiliation. He stalks from the room and sinks into his own chair, ignoring everybody in the room.

They won’t meet his eyes anyway.

Later that night, after telling Kuroo he isn’t welcome in his apartment anymore, he slumps against Bokuto. Bokuto squeezes his shoulder affectionately and presses a kiss in to dark curls, “I’m sure there’s a good reason.”

Akaashi sighs, “I just hate being kept out of the loop, especially when it was my case in the first place.”

Bokuto nods, “I know! But you know they might be trying to protect you from getting hurt again! You never know babe.”

Akaashi looks up at him, “What could they be possibly protecting me from?”

“Um…” Bokuto looks as if he’s at loss for an answer. He pouts, “I really don’t know Keiji but you shouldn’t let it bother you. Hey, let’s watch a movie, yeah? That sounds like a great plan right?” He hums and grabs the remote, switching over to Netflix.

Akaashi shifts beside him, gazing at him knowingly, “Normally watching a movie equates to making out, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto laughs and keeps his eyes trained on the television, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Akaashi huffs and shakes his head as Bokuto puts on some Disney movie. _Typical Koutarou_ … he thinks and lays his head on one broad shoulder. Halfway through the movie he murmurs his love for the man and promptly drifts to sleep on his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

A week passes, making it three weeks since the murder of the government agent. The man knows what’s going on and he grows panicked. He never thought the FBI would catch up to him, not this soon. He considers turning around and waiting another couple days but he is cornered. Tonight is the night.

The man walks up to the apartment building hands shoved into his pockets, deciding that it’s now or never. He can feel the plastic of the bags in his pocket, rubbing against his bare fingers. The latex gloves sit in his other pocket. He’ll put them on when they were needed.

He’s aware of the cat like eyes watching him from the parking lot, along with another man in a different car watching him, as the door swings closed behind him.

He takes the stairs to the ninth floor, picking the lock of room 920. He figures it’ll take a while for the police to find him, as there are many floors and two of them waiting in that parking lot.

The apartment is dark. Most of his victims are asleep between the hours of two and three. He always banks on that but sometimes there’s a rare straggler watching TV on the couch. Those are definitely entertaining.

He shuts the door behind him, quietly. His heavy footsteps echo through the silent apartment as he walks to the bedroom where his victim lay asleep, alone. The man stands at the edge of the bed, peering at the person lying in the bed. He says something into the silence of the room. His voice is low but it sounds loud as it is the only sound-

They wake, eyes fluttering open, dazed for a moment. The man moves around to the side of the bed and clamps a gloved palm over lips, cutting off the air way. Eyes shine bright in the moonlight as they look up terrified in to the eyes of the Owl. The Owl smirks down at them, curling his free arm around them and hauling them off the bed. They scratch at his arm, much like a cat, but it does nothing.

His executions always occur in the living room and this one is no different.

It is an easy kill. A slice to the neck. A puncture to the jugular for good luck. Blood sprays everywhere and the gargling noises die down as the life slowly drained from their body. The eyes come next and he twists the head around as if it’s second nature. In some ways it is.

His sweatshirt is coated in blood but he wouldn’t have the concern over how to dispose of the clothes this time. The door to the apartment crashes open, hitting the wall with a loud bang. He turns his back to the door, wanting to make the reveal as dramatic as possible.

After all, the man lives for dramatics.

 

* * *

 

Kuroo watches the man amble into the apartment building all so casually. He waits a moment before his eyes look out the window to meet Matsukawa’s sitting in a car off to the side. They lock eyes and nod. Matsukawa goes in first.

Kuroo pulls his phone out, calling up Yaku. He gives them the address, saying they’ve got their guy and they need to be there as soon as possible. Yaku and Lev, if he could recall correctly, were the closest to his location so they would be there the fastest.  Kuroo had chosen this one to stake outside of because it was his own apartment building. Then he hangs up and climbs out of the car, walking into the building with a racing heart.

He meets Matsukawa on the third floor. They keep climbing the floors, trying every room with the number twenty. He texts Yaku and Lev when they’re on the eighth floor and the limber giant and shorter man are tumbling out of the stair case moments later.

With whispered words they climb to the ninth floor, already exhausted. As they approach room 920, Matsukawa tries the doorknob. To their shock and relief, it turns. The four men’s blood turns cold and they look at each other.

Kuroo puts his shaking hand up and Matsukawa steps aside, allowing Kuroo to take over. He grips the knob in his hand with an deep inhale and throws it open so that it hits the wall. He draws his gun and holds it up, beckoning for the others to follow him. They all step inside and see the Owl, standing there over a body with his back turned to him.

“You have nowhere to go,” Kuroo states, trying to keep his voice from wavering. He does not steal a glance at the body on the floor, already knowing what he’ll find. “It’s in your best interest to surrender and drop your gun.”

The man begins to laugh.

It’s deep and holds no cheer. His shoulder shakes as he laughs and he drops his gun on to the lifeless body beneath him. The blood drains into the carpet and he steps in it as he turns to face them. Kuroo is already prepared after hearing the laugh, even though he doesn’t want to believe. _No_ he doesn’t even want to see.

Kuroo keeps his gun cocked. He doesn’t have to look at neither Lev nor Yaku to know they are feeling exactly what he’s feeling. They’ve heard that laugh, seen this face, seen these eyes so many times in the day that it’s so much more shocking to see it in the darkness of the apartment. The only light in the apartment shines from the outer hallway where people are beginning to pile out and the moonlight coming in through the window.

The man smirks, quirking the corners of his lips up. There’s the slightest baring of teeth and then he speaks: “Long time no see, Tetsu.”

Kuroo closes his eyes and tries to keep his gun poised but he can’t. His hand falls heavy to his side and he presses a hand to his face, trying to breathe. He shouldn’t have let his guard down because before he knows it there’s the soft sound of a gun clicking and then there is a thump next to him as a body collapses to the ground. Bile rises in his throat as he steals a glance at the new body on the floor.

It’s Lev with a single bullet wound in the middle of his forehead. Dead in an instant.

 Matsukawa springs into action, taking the gun from the Owl who cackles inhumanly and shackles his hands together behind his back. Yaku and Kuroo can’t move, Kuroo’s hand still covering his face and Yaku staring at his dead partner on the ground. His body is fuzzy and the room is swimming. He can feel a panic attack beginning to set in as he crouches down, placing a hand on Lev’s arm, trying to shake him awake because no, he’s not dead? How can his bright man be dead, murdered right before his eyes?

Kuroo moves against the wall as Matsukawa steers the man past them, avoiding Yaku, who looks is completely white at this point, and into the hallway where people gape and stare. Kuroo can’t breathe, he can’t move and he steals a glance at the body lying on the carpet of the apartment. If he squints he can make out their features; he can see strands of hair that are blonde and that probably fall to shoulder length splaying around their head, blonde color now tinted red with blood.

He lets out a choked sob and turns away. Everything is too much right now. Kuroo tries to reach out to Yaku who shoves him away, transforming into a pool of tears as he clutches Lev’s shirt. The worst thing is, is that the expression Lev wore was one of surprise, his face slowly falling into the sullen face of death. Kuroo really thinks he’s going to vomit the more he looks at his dead friend.

It is going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

The next morning is like all others. Akaashi wakes up, takes a shower and then pulls on a suit. Then he checks his phone to see if Bokuto was still up for coffee that morning. The man hadn’t slept over that night and waking up alone in the mornings were the hardest.

To Akaashi’s surprise, he doesn’t find his usual good morning text from Bokuto, or anything from the man. He pinches his eyebrows together and decides to send his own and wait. He waits and waits but no response comes so he just decides to brew his own cup, barely making it into the car with just enough time to make it to work on time.

By the time he arrives there’s still no response from Bokuto. The morning turns stranger when he walks in to the agent’s office and nobody greets him. Nobody looks him in the eye. Nobody pays him any mind. It’s almost as if he doesn’t exist.

Everybody is silent. Daichi stares blankly at his computer in some kind of reverie, Asahi looks as if he is going to throw up, Konoha and Sarukui are whispering amongst themselves and refuse to glance in Akaashi’s direction, even though Akaashi is sure he heard his name amongst their words. Yaku and Lev are nowhere to be found.

Akaashi looks around and blinks, opening his mouth to say something. But he decides against it. He feels like he is invisible right now, something that is really awful to feel, especially among colleagues. But he figures it has to do with whatever they are hiding from him. This only pisses him off further.

He waits an hour before he actually confronts the problem.

“Why do you all appear to be on edge?” Akaashi asks. Everybody jerks as the silence is broken and all six pairs of eyes fix on him but they remain quiet.

Akaashi tries again, “Did something happen? Do I need to speak to Kuroo-san?”

“No!” Asahi blurts and Akaashi sees Daichi visibly deflate. Daichi then gives Asahi a stern glare.

“No something didn’t happen or no I shouldn’t go talk to Kuroo-san?” Akaashi fixes gray eyes on to the tall Russian, who sweats under his intimidating gaze.

“There’s no need to speak to Kuroo-san,” Daichi says, voice tight.

“So something happened but you can’t tell me.” Akaashi assumes, folding his hands in his lap and leaning back into the cushion of his chair. The nervous glance the two share is all the affirmation he needs. Akaashi stands and smoothes his tie down. “I’ll go find out for myself then.”

“No!” This time it’s Daichi who exclaims, jumping out of his seat. He closes his eyes and balls his fists at his side, “The Owl was caught last night.”

Akaashi blinks, stunned. He is stunned that the Owl was actually _caught_ and that they didn’t want to tell him. “And you kept this from me because…?”

Daichi’s lips pull taut and he begins to step from the room entirely, “It’s best if you just… see for yourself.” He beckons for Akaashi to follow and he does, hesitantly, falling a few steps behind Daichi.

They make their way up a floor and to the interrogation rooms. How long had the Owl been here without Akaashi knowing? How long were they planning on keeping this information from him? He is supposed to be the head of this case and they wouldn’t even tell him that the culprit of _all the murders_ was caught last night. What kind of fucked up world is he living in?

Akaashi sees Iwaizumi standing behind the one way mirror, arms crossed over his chest and teeth worrying his bottom lip. He stares in to the interrogation room intently and doesn’t hear Daichi and Akaashi approach. “Iwaizumi-san?”

Iwaizumi flicks his gaze to Akaashi and Daichi and straightens. “Sawamura…”

Daichi swallows, “He was going to find out eventually.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, “Can one of you please tell me what is going on because I am very confused, sir.”

Iwaizumi holds his breath for a moment before sighing and stepping to the side, “Have a look Akaashi.”

Akaashi eyes him curiously before stepping in front of the mirror. It’s a scene all too familiar.

Suga is the first one he sees. Suga is pale, paler than usual, and a mix of disbelief and horror is written on his face. He looks as if he could cry right there and Akaashi can see he is visibly shaking in his seat.

Akaashi looks to Kuroo next, who is standing with his back to the Owl. His fingers come up to pinch the bridge of his nose and his shoulders tremble as if he’s crying. But Kuroo doesn’t cry easily, Akaashi knows this. So maybe he’s trembling in anger?

Akaashi’s eyes finally drift to the man sitting across from Suga, a smirk sketched on to his face.

And Akaashi’s heart all but stops, mouth going dry, blood running cold, all the clichés to describe how he feels in that moment.

Because, he knows this man.

The media may refer to him as the Owl, but Akaashi knows him as somebody entirely different.

_Bokuto Koutarou._


	12. And It All Comes Crashing Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for 240 kudos and the overwhelming response on the last chapter!!!! I'm still baffled at everybody's responses, some of you gave me a good chuckle! I'd like to say it only goes up from here but...well....  
> Enjoy!

Bokuto sits smirking at the table, watching Suga’s shocked and disturbed face closely. They’ve just been sitting and staring at each other for the whole time they have been in this room, which is close to fifteen minutes now. Every time Suga goes to form a sentence it gets lost in his mouth and he promptly shuts it.

Kuroo won’t even look at him, not even after all these hours since meeting in that fateful apartment. He can see the way Kuroo is shaking; Suga is too now if he really looks at him. This hadn’t been his goal but it certainly was a plus, seeing the FBI shaking in their boots.

Bokuto can’t help but wonder when Akaashi would make his appearance. He doesn’t want to register the sorrow in his chest so he keeps up a front that is haughty and deceptive.

After a year of doing this, he thinks he’s earned his title of Master of Deception.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi looks. He looks long and hard, blinks a few times, rubs at his eyes because maybe, just _maybe_ he’s seeing things wrong. Because, certainly it isn’t Bokuto sitting at that table with Suga…

Right?

“Akaashi?” Daichi asks softly, placing a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder and pulling him from whatever reverie he had descended in to.

Akaashi cannot tear his eyes away from the mirror, looking at the way Bokuto’s mouth curls in a smirk so chilling that it doesn’t even look like him. His hair is down, not gelled in to his normal horned style, and a bit mussed. He looks exhausted but he probably had a long night.

Not that Akaashi wants to defend him, or believe that this is actually happening right now. Because certainly this wasn’t happening. Akaashi is not standing in this room with his coworkers, watching his boyfriend morph into a serial killer, a killer who has killed more than twenty-five people in the past year. That definitely isn’t happening right now.

Iwaizumi and Daichi share a glance. They don’t know what to do; don’t even know how to help the agent in front of them. They have so many questions for him, since he _is_ the boyfriend of this ruthless murderer sitting in the room opposite them. But now is the not the time and place to bring this up or question him. That is especially true after looking at the shocked and disheveled expression on Akaashi’s face.

They can see from Akaashi’s reaction that he knew nothing of this. And for that, they are slightly relieved, though still horrified that the killer is somebody close to two people in this agency.

Akaashi doesn’t realize that he is hyperventilating until Daichi calls his name a second time, followed by Iwaizumi’s voice. He stares at Daichi with big eyes and Daichi takes a slight step back from shock. He’s never seen Akaashi with this kind of expression on his face before.

“Please,” Akaashi speaks, voice sounding broken and lost, “please tell me this is a joke.”

Daichi looks to Iwaizumi for help again and Akaashi follows his gaze to the chief, pleas in his gray eyes. Iwaizumi purses his lips, searching for the correct thing to say but he’s never been great at comforting people. “I’m sorry,” he says, dejected. It’s the best response he has to offer.

Akaashi looks torn for a moment before fleeing the room. Daichi calls after him but he doesn’t stop, flinging open the door on the other side of that one way mirror. Kuroo’s head tilts toward him in bewilderment, not expecting the door to be opened that forcefully. Akaashi can see his eyes are tinged red and bloodshot. He probably had a long night too.

Suga turns in his seat and gasps out, “Akaashi!” Akaashi doesn’t pay him any attention, just looks right over his head at Bokuto. Bokuto sits there, smirk still in place but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s something in those golden eyes that Akaashi can’t place. Sadness? Remorse? Can serial killers even feel those things?

Akaashi comes forward and braces his palms flat on the table. He’s trembling violently and his chest is tight, ready to burst. He can feel the sting of tears behind his eyes as he stares at the man he loves, his lover, his boyfriend, the man who terrorized all of Tokyo for a year before he was finally caught.

“Bokuto-san, please…” Akaashi whispers softly. His gaze on Bokuto never falters, “Please tell me you’re here on coincidence. _Please_. You’re not… who they say you are.”

Bokuto grins, “I can’t do that.”

Akaashi bites his lower lip and closes his eyes, willing the tears to stay down. He can’t be weak, not in front of this man, not again, “I don’t understand.”

“I think it’s common sense. You’re a smart guy Akaashi. I killed all those people.” Bokuto pauses, assessing for a moment. Then he chuckles, “Well, not all of them. Daishou killed four of them. It’s amazing that he just did what I asked with no complaints.”

“How can you just… kill twenty-seven people,” Akaashi ponders, curling his fists on the table, “How can you do that and act so normal?”

Bokuto chuckles, “It’s actually twenty-nine.”

Akaashi stiffens, “Excuse me?”

“Twenty-nine people. I killed another last night but this guy caught me in the act,” Bokuto gestures to Kuroo with his chin. Kuroo is facing them now with a blank expression, hands shoved in to the pockets of his suit. Akaashi hadn’t noticed before but his hair has wilted, losing its typical bed-head shape.

“What about the twenty-ninth? You only said you killed one.” Akaashi asks slowly. He hears Suga’s sharp intake of breath.

Bokuto hums and tries to tilt back in his seat, “Ah yes, the tall Russian guy. What’s his name? Lev or something right? The little one was crying a lot.”

“You… You killed Lev?” Akaashi asks quietly, thoughts racing through his head. Yaku and Lev weren’t here today, which could only mean… Lev was actually dead and Yaku was wherever in mourning. Yaku would have only cried if they were romantically involved, which had been everybody’s suspicions for months. It is awful that it came to light like this.

“Mhm. Wasn’t hard. Just lifted the gun and… boom.” Bokuto tried to make finger guns but with his hands bound it was kind of hard.

Akaashi grits his teeth, vision swimming with tears, “So you kill twenty-nine people and you can just live with yourself? You killed children, _young_ kids who had their whole lives ahead of them. One of them wasn’t even in school yet. And… And you killed my partner as well as another FBI agent. What for? Just because they were in the FBI? Because Terushima was my partner?”

Bokuto shakes his head, wisps of black and white hair flying around, “Terushima was just a coincidence. I didn’t want to kill him he just so happened to be in the apartment I picked. Lev, well, that one was for fun. To stir the pot a bit. It wasn’t hard. I was surprised that Tetsu here didn’t rush to me or tackle me or something. You’d think when you see a serial killer standing there they would immediately go to kill him but no, Kuroo just stood there, looking.”

Kuroo snarls at him but doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t trust his voice at all.

“And what about your sister and brother-in-law? How could you just murder your family in cold blood, I don’t understand!” Akaashi’s voice cracks and he presses a hand to his lips. Suga stands and places his hand on the small of his back.

“Akaashi I think it would be best if you le-“

“ _No!_ ” Akaashi shouts and jerks away from him. Suga looks taken aback, sitting back down with his hands pressed into his knees. Suga has rarely heard Akaashi raise his voice and it is clear that nothing is going to get in his way. “You were the Owl before we met. Did you only want to be with me because I was in the FBI?”

Bokuto shook his head, “No. My feelings for you are genuine. You never really told me much about the cases except that you had no suspects. You guys really made me feel like I had a lot of power. You guys are the ones that made this all possible, with how far I got.” Bokuto laughs, meeting Akaashi’s eyes. It’s a horrid sound, one that Akaashi no longer loves. “I couldn’t have killed all those people without you guys so really, thank you.”

Akaashi sees red, maybe a little black around the edges. Before he knows it, he’s flying across the metal table that separates them, fist colliding with Bokuto’s strong jaw. “Fuck you,” Akaashi seethes and grabs the front of Bokuto’s shirt. Bokuto looks fazed, staring at Akaashi with a stunned expression. He really hadn’t thought Akaashi would get physical, not pegging him the type to attack like that.

Akaashi’s hand is throbbing from connecting with Bokuto’s strong jaw but he pays it no mind.

There is blood trickling from the corner of Bokuto’s lips and it makes Akaashi feel triumphant, if only slightly. “I loved you. I gave you all my heart even though it’s so hard for me to open it. I really thought you were genuine but you’re just a monster. You’re a disgrace. I hate you, Bokuto Koutarou. You make me sick.”

The words hurt more than anything. Akaashi didn’t mean them. Well, he did. But he was still in love with Bokuto, his version of Bokuto. The cuddly one, the one he got coffee with every morning, the one who made him laugh, the one who made love to him with everything in him. Akaashi had never loved anybody like he loved Bokuto.

And now that was over.

Bokuto laughs, looking between Akaashi’s face and the fists in his shirt, “You don’t hate me. That’s not what you were saying when you were spread out under me a few nights ago.” Akaashi reels back as if stung. This is not the man he fell in love with.

Then, Akaashi growls from deep within his chest and his hands fly up to circle around Bokuto’s throat, cutting off his air. “You’re _scum_ , you’re _vile_. I hate you. You killed twenty-nine people and you have the audacity to _laugh_ about it? Fuck you. _Fuck_ you, fuck you, fuck you, _fuck you_!” He’s crying now, shaking Bokuto with his hands coming up and closing around his throat. Bokuto makes a choked sound but there’s still a grin at his lips, bloodied teeth exposed to Akaashi’s blurry eyes.

Arms circle around Akaashi’s waist, prying him off the Owl. They haul him off the table and towards the door. From muscle memory he knows it is Kuroo and Akaashi is pressed flush against his chest.

Bokuto watches curiously, head tilted to the side. “Quite a show you’re putting on Akaashi. All because you’re disgusted with yourself because you fell in love with somebody like me. Somebody who rips apart flesh for fun. How does that make you feel, knowing I cut up your partner like he was nothing but a slab of meat? How does it feel knowing a shot Lev between the eyes without a care in the world? Would it help to know that I get off to these images? It’s quite beautiful, the way the blood splatters. I would use the blood to paint if I had any artistic ability whatsoever. But I don’t. I can just marvel from afar.” He has the audacity to sigh in pleasure.

A cry tore from Akaashi’s throat and he wrenches himself from Kuroo’s grip, moving to connect his fist with Bokuto’s nose once more. Kuroo is quick to grab him again. He doesn’t register the sound of the door opening and another set of arms wrapping around his waist. The door is opened once more and he’s dragged from the room with a declaration to Bokuto that he hopes he rots in prison for the rest of his life. He sees Suga with his hands pressed over his mouth, wide brown eyes filling with their own tears.

Akaashi sees now that it is Daichi who had come to help Kuroo and they carry him down the hall as he kicks, flails, writhes, punches and cries in their arms. People stare. He can see Yamaguchi and Tsukishima poking their heads out, watching with amazement as the serene Akaashi is reduced to a crying mess.

Kuroo and Daichi pull him in to an empty conference room and release him from their grips. Akaashi immediately collapses to the floor and Kuroo follows him, pulling him in to his arms. Kuroo’s hand strokes up and down his back, holding him close with his own back leaning against the wall. He says something to Daichi that Akaashi can’t make out but he hears the door open and click shut and assumes Daichi left.

Akaashi doesn’t know how much time has passed from when Daichi left to now but he hears the door open again. There’s somebody kneeling in front of them, taking Akaashi’s face into their hands. Akaashi blinks the tears from his eyes and this vision clears, taking in the blonde hair and black roots, golden eyes looking at him wide and worried, “K-Kenma?”

Kenma nods and pulls Akaashi in to a hug. Akaashi is reduced to sobs once more. Kuroo places a hand on the back of Kenma’s head, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Kenma allows it, their petty fight reduced to nothing now that Akaashi is a sobbing mess between them.

“I’m sorry.” Kuroo chokes out, grip tightening in Kenma’s hair. His lips linger on Kenma’s forehead.

Kenma nods again and allows Kuroo to pull them both in to his arm. Kuroo speaks again, “I should’ve trusted you. It would’ve hurt less if I just listened.”

“I understand,” Kenma said quietly, holding on to Akaashi tighter, “I’m sorry it ended up this way. I’m sorry Akaashi.”

Akaashi sniffs and looks up at them. Kenma has never seen his eyes look so blue, “W-Why?” His voice cracks and it’s rough, sounding so unlike him that it makes Kenma flush with anger.

“I… had my suspicions that it was Bokuto,” Kenma mumbles, gaze drifting off to the side. “I should have told you…”

“I…” Akaashi searches for words but falls in to a coughing fit. Kenma waits for him to calm down. “I w-wouldn’t have believed you anyway.” Akaashi whispers and grips on to Kenma’s lab coat tightly. “I feel so fucking stupid. Why is this happening?”

“I don’t know. We were all duped.” Kuroo says softly, “Don’t feel stupid. He played us and he played us well.”

Akaashi buried his face in his hands, wiping away the wetness on his cheeks, “Are people saying awful things?”

“Fuck them if they are,” Kuroo state softly, “I’m going to talk to them later and clear everything up with them. Just… you didn’t know anything about Bokuto being the Owl, right?”

Akaashi jerks in his grip and gives him a horrified and incredulous grip, “ _No!_ Do you think I would have stayed with him if I knew? Do you really think I wouldn’t have turned him in immediately?”

Kuroo holds his hands up in front of him in defense, “No I don’t I was just making sure.”

Akaashi chokes out a sob and leans forward to drop his forehead to Kuroo’s shoulder, “I really loved him, Kuroo-san.” He confesses with a whisper, voice strained with pain. Kenma leans his cheek against Akaashi back and Kuroo holds them both closer.

“We know, Akaashi. You deserved to be loved.” Kuroo’s voice is soft and he shuts his head, resting his head back against the wall. It’s a while before the three of them move. Kenma decides it’s best if he take Akaashi back to their apartment. Kuroo offers to go with but he has work to do and it would be irresponsible of him to leave.

Kenma takes the keys and steers Akaashi from the room, ducking out of view of the stares as they pass by. Whispers encase them and Kenma tries to muster up all his frustration into glares and sends them into the gossiping faces of coworkers.

Needless to say, they shut up pretty quick and move out of the way.

However, there is an angry figure stalking towards them and Akaashi freezes as the figure grows closer. “Yaku…” He breathes out, new tears swimming in his vision. Yaku’s face is red, eyes red rimmed and angry looking, much like Kuroo’s had been. There’s heartbreak in those light brown eyes and Akaashi knows that Yaku is blaming him right now.

“Yaku-san, I’m-“ Akaashi coughs as Yaku slams him against the wall, his head hitting it roughly. He deserves this. It’s all his fault for not suspecting Bokuto. If only somebody had told him, if only he could have looked into it more, then they could have saved Lev.

“Lev’s dead, did you know?” Yaku laughs softly. It sounds slightly hysterically. People are starting to come out of their offices to watch the spectacle, much like they had before when Akaashi was kicking and screaming in Kuroo and Daichi’s grips. “Your boyfriend killed him? Did you know? Did you know that your boyfriend was a son of a bitch who fucking kills people? Lev’s _dead_.”

Akaashi bites his lip. “I know Yaku-san, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-“

“No amount of apologizing is going to bring him back!” Yaku shouts and Akaashi flinches, trying to get away. For such a tiny person, Yaku’s grip is strong. “Lev was so bright. He _is_ so bright. He didn’t deserve this. You’re a monster.”

“I didn’t know anything, Yaku-san.” Akaashi says quietly, “I promise you. I had no idea that Bokuto-san was-“

“Don’t say his name like that!” Yaku shouts and presses Akaashi harder into the wall, “Don’t say his fucking name with all the sympathy and sorrow and _love_ in the world. I hope you hate yourself. I hope you hate yourself every day for the rest of your life because you got dozens of people killed. And for what? Because you couldn’t open your eyes? We knew. We figured it out. But we kept it from you to protect you Akaashi. How does that fucking feel?” Yaku wipes his eyes and finally lets go of him. Konoha makes an appearance, coming up and steering Yaku away without a look in Akaashi’s direction.

Kenma takes Akaashi by the arm and moves him through the crowd of people with glares in every direction. People part when they see how pissed Kenma is about the whole ordeal. Akaashi is trembling. Was it really his fault? Did he… Were Lev and Terushima dead because of him? Kenma pushes him towards the car and they slowly get in.

Kenma is a careful driver, making sure to avoid potholes so there is less jerking of the car. Akaashi’s head is pounding, most likely because he cried his eyes out and hadn’t had anything to drink that morning. The first thing Kenma does when steering Akaashi in to his apartment is get him a glass of water, forcing him to drink it.

He gives Akaashi an old pair of Kuroo’s sweatpants and an old shirt of Kuroo’s, getting him to take his suit off and drape it over the desk chair. Then he put Akaashi to bed, tucking him in like a little kid and demanding that he sleep.

Akaashi wakes about three hours later with the urge to throw up. He can’t stop thinking of Bokuto’s hands and lips on his, thinking of Bokuto inside him, smiling down or at him. Bokuto swirls all around his thoughts and he can’t get him to go away.

His skin crawls with every thought and he tears himself from the sheets of Kenma and Kuroo’s bed, stumbling to the bathroom to expel the contents of stomach. Kenma is shuffling in the doorway in an instant, calming him down and forcing him in to the shower, laying a fluffy towel out for him.

The next couple hours go on like this, Akaashi telling him through all his panting and dry heaving that he can’t stop feeling the sensations of Bokuto’s hands on his skin. His skin burns and he wants to peel off every single layer until he is nothing but a shell. He is already a shell of nothing but sorrow and it is going to take a while to put everything back together.

Kuroo comes home to Akaashi vomiting again and is taken aback. Akaashi can hear Kenma murmuring softly to Kuroo, explaining what is going on. He curls up on the bathroom floor once flushing the toilet and standing shakily for a moment to wash his mouth out. Kuroo appears over him, smoothing a rough hand through Akaashi’s curls.

“Akaashi…” Kuroo whispers and pulls him in to his arms much like earlier. He’s never seen Akaashi like this before, despite knowing him since high school. The closest he’s come to seeing Akaashi like this was Akaashi’s last relationship that had ended badly. But that was almost three years ago.

Akaashi shakes his head, “I’m sorry I just… I can’t.”

“You can’t what?” Kuroo asks softly.

“I can’t believe that this is happening. He just… He was so great you know?”

“I know. He’s a really good actor.”

“Everything seemed so genuine!” Akaashi croaks and curls his hand in to a fist on Kuroo’s shoulder. “He had me fooled really well, Tetsurou. And Lev… Lev’s dead because of me, isn’t he? Because I didn’t see the signs…”

“It’s not your fault. Who said that?” Kuroo asks.

“Yaku-san.” Akaashi mumbles.

“None of this is your fault, you didn’t even know. Don’t listen to him.” Kuroo says softly. He could hear Kenma moving around in the kitchen.

Akaashi wipes his eyes, “Did you and Iwaizumi-san do a press conference?”

Kuroo groans, “Yes. It was awful. I couldn’t… Iwaizumi did most of the talking. It was pretty much useless for me to be there.” Akaashi nods and pulls away from Kuroo, using him to steady himself as he stood. Despite protests, Kuroo helped him back to the bed and sat him down on the bed.

“I don’t understand how he was so calm when I brought up Terushima that one day.”Akaashi begins to ramble, “And the morning after he… murdered him I told him to come over and he was limping and there was a bruise on his face. I should’ve _known_ Kuroo. It was so obvious and I was so stupid.”

“Akaashi, you’re not stupid.” Kuroo grips his shoulder tightly, forcing him to look him in the eye, “You’re not stupid. Okay? Please stop saying it because you’re not.” Akaashi stares at him for a moment before nodding, crawling under the covers.

A couple hours later, the three of them are curled up against each other, Akaashi’s face buried in Kuroo’s shoulder while Kenma burrows into Akaashi’s back.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi doesn’t go back to work for a week. He stays at Kuroo and Kenma’s apartment, not wanting to step into his own apartment. There he’ll find memories of his and Bokuto’s romance and he isn’t ready. He’s not sure he ever will be. Akaashi gives his key to Kuroo to go get him some clean clothes so he doesn’t have to keep taking Kuroo’s.

He rarely leaves the bed, barely eats, and only uses the restroom when he can’t hold it any longer or Kenma forces him to bathe. He’s in a dreamy haze for the worse part of the week. He tries not to think too much but with nothing to do but stare at the wall or closet, he loses himself in his thoughts.

When he finally steps foot in to the facility, people turn their heads away. He walks past them, bypassing the agents’ room. He can feel them gaping at him but they don’t move in to the hallway. Yaku is nowhere to be seen, thankfully. He moves towards Iwaizumi’s office.

He taps lightly on the door with his knuckle, waiting for permission to enter before stepping inside. Iwaizumi glances up and has to do a double take, not having expected to see Akaashi so soon.

“Akaashi.” Iwaizumi states, puzzlement in his voice, “How are you feeling?”

Akaashi cannot even force a weak smile on his face and just offers a nod, “I’m still not…” He looks out the window and Iwaizumi immediately understands.

“What can I help you with today?” Iwaizumi asks, taking his glasses off and folding his hands in front of him.

Akaashi swallows and looks him in the eye before darting his gaze down to the desk, “I think it would be best if I, um, resigned. I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to continue working here after everything that happened.”

Iwaizumi is stunned, to say the least. However, he knows that he cannot let Akaashi go just because of this and will do everything he can to convince him not to go. He motions to the chair in front of Akaashi, “Akaashi, please sit.”

Akaashi looks confused but sits down anyway. He eyes Iwaizumi curiously.

Iwaizumi sighs and offers him a smile, “Are you only resigning because you feel guilty about your relationship with… _him_?”

Akaashi tentatively nods and says, “I also… The agents are not… I’m not welcome here anymore.”

“Listen. We all know that you had no knowledge of who he really was and what he was doing. Nobody blames you. I’m sure you’re blaming yourself a lot right now but I can promise you that none of us hold you accountable because your actions did not cause any of the unfortunate events.

“I know you were frustrated with all of us a few weeks ago because you felt as if we were keeping things from you. And we were. A couple of people, whose names I will not reveal in order to keep arguments from happening, suspected Bokuto. And we did not tell you so we could keep an eye on him and you.

“We found no evidence that you knew and let me repeat that nobody thinks that you knew anything and everybody still thinks this, so do not fret.” Iwaizumi takes a deep breath and looks him in the eye, “I don’t want you to feel as if you have to resign because of this case and who the killer ended up being. You’re a very reliable asset to us and you’re damn good at your job whether you believe so or not.”

Iwaizumi grins softly, trying to coax some kind of positive emotion from Akaashi. But Akaashi continues to stare at him dejectedly and Iwaizumi sighs once more, “I can’t stop you from resigning if that’s what you really want, but I think that both of us know that you don’t want this.”

“I know I’m blamed for Lev being murdered, by at least a few of the agents. I cannot stop how they really feel, Iwaizumi-san.” Akaashi grips the arm rest of the chair, averting his eyes.

Iwaizumi smiles again. “I’m willing to give you leave for the time being, just until all the nitty-gritty shit is taken care of so you don’t have to deal with it if it’s too much.”

Akaashi considers it for a moment. He loves his job, regardless if it’s shitty sometimes. No job is perfect. But everything that he’s had to deal with the past year for it to ultimately appear that his boyfriend is the killer really is a punch to the face. He doesn’t know if he can do that again. This was unique though; nothing like this could happen twice.

“I appreciate that Iwaizumi-san.” Akaashi says quietly, looking at his hands in his lap. He hears Iwaizumi shift in his seat, waiting for a definitive answer. “I… I will see how much time I need to…heal.”

“Of course!” Iwaizumi says, nodding vigorously, “You can have as much time off as you need, I promise.”

Akaashi gives him a hesitant smile and is silent for a moment before speaking up, “Um, Iwaizumi-san?”

“Yes?”

“How… How is the case coming?”

Iwaizumi again looks puzzled, not expecting Akaashi to ask about the case. He clears his throat and straightens, “Well, um, he confessed to everything and it was confirmed that he was the one who did everything. We searched his apartment and it was… very disturbing inside. We did find Terushima’s phone there.”

A pained expression crosses Akaashi’s face. He had never been inside Bokuto’s apartment before. Bokuto had only offered once but any other time Akaashi had asked he always made up some kind of excuse. He was curious as to what was behind that door but he also really did not want to know.

The thought made him sick.

“Thank you.” Akaashi says and goes to stand, “May I be excused?”

Iwaizumi nods, “Absolutely. Take care of yourself, Akaashi.” Akaashi gives a final nod before exiting, walking back down the hallway. He considers going in to his office to say hello but he didn’t want the awkward conversations.

He considers going back to his apartment but his hands shake at the thought so he decides to head back to Kenma and Kuroo’s opting to nap on the couch while he waits for their return.

Akaashi knows he has to go back to his own apartment eventually. But it’s too soon. He’s too heartbroken and he just knows that everything will smell like _him_ and he can’t handle it. The wound is too fresh.


	13. Killer Tells All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get the Owl's side of the story and an insight to his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm.... Second to last chapter. Wow. This has truly been an experience, thank you so much for all your support, all the kudos and comments and ah! So heartwarming it's ridiculous. You're finally getting your Bokuto chapter, all Bokuto's side of the story, more into his life. This is the only chapter that Akaashi is not in!
> 
> Also, my amazing, wonderful, fantastic friend Brittie drew [fanart](http://pinkisnotyourenemy.tumblr.com/post/151452398707/if-a-serial-killer-was-standing-right-in-front-of) for Fruitless!!! Please go look at it it's absolutely stunning!!!

Bokuto sits patiently, waiting for Kuroo to return from having to drag Akaashi from the room. His jaw aches; he never knew that Akaashi packed such a hard punch and was pleasantly surprised. He licks over his teeth and swallows the blood, the bitter taste going down easily. He also was unaware that those emotions could come from Akaashi so there’s that.

Suga looks highly uncomfortable, trying to avoid his gaze and taps his foot on the ground. Bokuto stares at him deliberately and nervous brown eyes flick to him every once in a while.

The door opens and Daichi appears, taking the seat beside Suga. He leans towards his boyfriend and whispers something in his ear, Suga nodding in agreement. Suga clears his throat and shakily opens the file sitting in front of him, staring down at some of the information.

“So,” Suga begins, finally lifting his brown eyes to meet Bokuto’s gold ones. Bokuto tilts his head and smirks, waiting for him to continue. Suga tries his best to force a smile but it looks pained. “You… confess to killing all these people and that Daishou was, in fact, helping you?”

Bokuto barks out a laugh, startling both Suga and Daichi in their seats, “I mean, Kuroo caught me red handed so there’s no reason to lie. Even if I plead not guilty I’ll still go to jail for years ‘cause of all the evidence. There’s really no point in hiding anything. And yeah, Daishou was helping me. That snake is very good at being second best.”

Suga nods and chews his lip. He pulls some photos out of the folder, looking them over. “You were very… brutal in your killings. Your killings resembled an owl.”

“They are my favorite animal.” Bokuto states it like it’s a well known fact, “They’re so beautiful. They’re strong and they work at night. I felt it only right that I pay them tribute.”

“So you used the animal as a symbol specifically because they’re your favorite animal?”

Bokuto bobs his head enthusiastically. Daichi grimaces and tries to be discreet about it but Bokuto catches it, giving him an amused smirk.

“Why did you do it?” Suga asks suddenly, tears in his eyes. “You had… You had a perfectly normal life. You had Akaashi, who is a great man who clearly would have done anything for you. I’ve never seen Akaashi act the way he did when he… punched you. So why?”

Bokuto hums, “Well I started killing way before I met Akaashi and clearly didn’t stop when I met him. It didn’t matter to me that he was in the FBI; in fact it made things easier. Nobody would suspect an agent’s boyfriend, right?”

“So what you’re saying is, is that you used him?” Daichi ponders slowly.

Bokuto shakes his head, “No. I mean, at first kind of? It’s weird. He never really had much to tell me about the case. He just told me what everybody knew; you guys had no suspects and were nowhere near coming to a conclusion for this case. But after a while I became genuinely interested in him because he is… he’s like no other man I’ve been with. Unfortunately for me I wanted to kill more than I wanted to be with him at times. Sometimes I wouldn’t want to kill because I felt kind of guilty for going behind his back. That’s when I recruited Daishou, who has been wrapped around my finger since college. If he didn’t have a girlfriend I would’ve thought he was gay.” Bokuto laughs a little bit.  

“I do love him though, Akaashi I mean, not Daishou, god, definitely not Daishou, and I probably always will but now… I guess shit happens. I don’t regret what I did. I don’t regret killing all those people because it was fun. Isn’t the most important thing in life to have fun?” A giddy look swims in to Bokuto’s eyes.

Suga stops him before he can press further, ignoring the last comment. “Was there any method to your killings? None of your victims were linked in anyway. We thought when you killed Terushima you would start coming after us but…”

Bokuto cackles, “You guys flatter yourselves, honestly. I didn’t have a method I just picked an apartment building and picked a floor and went to work. Terushima was a happy accident. He’s my favorite kill to this day.” Bokuto’s eyes were shining with mirth. “He’s the only one who put up a real fight. Guess I shouldn’t have expected any less from an agent.”

“So everything was random?” Daichi asks in disbelief. He looks over the papers in the folder, “But every victim lived in a home with the number twenty in the address. Is that random?”

Bokuto hums, “Everything was random but that. You see, twenty is my lucky number because I was born on September twentieth. My last kill took place in room 920 because I saw Kuroo sitting in the parking lot waiting for me. Had to make that one a good one.” Bokuto sighs, “But everything else was random. I didn’t have a list of names that I went off of, just had a number.”

“So you were never targeting the FBI?” Suga asks again.

Bokuto rolls his eyes, “No. I was not targeting the FBI.”

“Why did you kill your sister then? Shouldn’t you have known that we would start to suspect you after that?”

“Did you though? Suspect me?” Bokuto taunts, eyebrows raised.

“Kozume-kun suspected you from the start,” Suga begins to explain, distraught finally slinking away to allow a smile to grace his face. “It wasn’t until after we found out Daishou was your college roommate that he voiced it to me. I had my doubts but then your sister and her husband turned up dead and it was kind of hard to believe. Did you really think you would be off the hook if your sister showed up dead? Did you think we would just turn a blind eye to you, especially with all the new evidence that has pointed to you?”

Bokuto shrugs, “I hoped. I mean, you guys aren’t very good at your jobs if it took you a year of monthly killings to find me.”

Suga’s smile twitches and he drums his fingers on the table, “You kind of gave yourself away. It didn’t even seem like you were grieving.”

Bokuto chuckles, “It wasn’t a huge loss to me, killing her. Her screams of terror were… something else, let me tell you. I’m just glad she lived in a secluded spot because there was no way I would have been able to run if somebody else had shown up.”

“So you did everything at random,” Suga begins to repeat, “You were targeting the FBI, you killed for fun… is there any real motive here? Or did you just… feel like doing this?”

Bokuto bends his fingers a couple times, fingers cracking. “I did it for power.”

“Power?” Daichi and Suga say in unison.

Bokuto smirks and nods, “There’s a certain power that comes with killing somebody. Your life is in their hands. You have the ability to choose whether you’re going to kill them or let them live with a threat.”

“That just sounds like you wanted control over people, not power.” Daichi muses.

“With power comes control and with control comes power. They are essentially the same, don’t you think?” Bokuto cocks his head and gives the illusion of an owl. Suga shivers slightly and just stares.

“Bokuto… strength wise, I’d say you are very powerful. Why did you need to go to other means to seek power or control?” Suga doesn’t understand and he thinks he never will.

“I told you when we first met here that I was kicked out of school,” Bokuto sighs and tries to cross his legs but his shackled ankles forbid it. “The volleyball team and I threw a party. It got out of hand and a few of us roamed onto campus late at night and… destroyed one of the academic buildings. Smashed windows, desks thrown out those windows. It was crazy and it was all my idea. So they kicked me out and gave the other academic probation because I essentially forced them to do that with me.

“At that time I was one of the best players on the volleyball team despite being a first year. The power I felt when I spiked the ball… that is something that only wing spikers will know.” He lets his gaze fall on Daichi before continuing, “I lost all of that. I lost my ticket to the national team when I was kicked out school. Volleyball was my everything. They say that the setters are the control of the court but who gets the points? Wing spikers. I wanted that power again.

“I never finished university so I couldn’t get a well paying job so I had to go in to fast food and construction work. I like construction work. It’s all heavy lifting.”

“I don’t understand the point of this, Bokuto,” Suga sighs.

“I started killing people to feel the kind of rush and power and control I did while playing volleyball.” Bokuto explains, summarizing his story.

“You could have continued to play for a neighborhood association or something. Nothing was stopping you.” Daichi says softly.

“I wanted to be a professional. I was banking on becoming professional. I’ve played volleyball my entire life with the goal of going pro and after I got kicked out I couldn’t do it anymore. I would never go pro because there was no way for me to be scouted.” Bokuto’s voice becomes strained and he grits his teeth, “I fucked up. It’s my own fault. But I found that feeling again in killing. I would thrust my knife into those bodies with all the intensity I would spike the balls with. It’s exhilarating.”

Suga makes a strangled noise, “We don’t want to hear the gory details.”

Bokuto raises an eyebrow and laughs manically, “No? You don’t want to hear how I would drag the knife through the stomach, watching the wound open and blood spill out? You don’t want to hear how I would stab through their jugular, their skin popping as I did so? You don’t want to hear about the bullets going through their eyes, spraying shit everywhere? It’s so beautiful how could you not want to hear about it?”

Suga pales with each description, “I just don’t get how you could translate something fun like volleyball to _murdering_ innocent people! You killed children! Children who had their whole lives ahead of them! They didn’t even know how the world worked before you took that away from them.”

“I was doing them a favor.” Bokuto waves his hand dismissively, “Children are probably the hardest to kill because they’re so pliable, y’know. They can twist in shapes and run away really fast it’s impressive. Which is why you have to kill them first. Then the adults are easy because they just plead and it’s adorable. No matter what they say…” He made a finger gun and pointed it at Suga, flicking it up.

Suga shudders and stands, “I think we’re done here for today. I’ll… have Officers Matsukawa and Hanamaki bring you back to the jailhouse.”

Bokuto grins, “Aw, all for little ol’ me.”

Suga glares and tugs Daichi up with him, briskly walking from the room. He shoves the file into his hands before darting towards the bathroom to puke up the contents of his guts. Bokuto’s words echo through his mind and he dry heaves for a minute before he’s able to sit back and wipe his mouth.

Suga, as well as all others who have come in to contact with Bokuto in the last twelve or so hours, does not understand how this is the same man they played volleyball with or drank beers with a couple weeks back. It’s disturbing that somebody so malevolent could do something so gruesome and disgusting.

“I don’t think he’s being sincere.” Suga voices a little later when his mouth is washed and color had returned to his cheeks. He drinks water and leans back into his chair while Daichi sits across from him on the other side of his desk.

“Bokuto?” Daichi asks, looking up from the papers he was shuffling through.

Suga nods, taking another sip of his water, “I don’t think he had a reason. It’s kind of bullshit right? College was a decade ago for him or something like that. Why would he still be holding onto it that deeply? Volleyball is just a sport, it shouldn’t take over your whole life.”

“Some people hold on to things.” Daichi says slowly.

“Okay, yeah,” Suga says, capping his water bottle and fixing his eyes on him. “But it felt like he was made that up on the spot. Or it was rehearsed. I don’t think he has a reason in the first place… He was just killing to kill.”

“Killing for sport.” Daichi offers. Suga nods and looks at him for a moment before turning back to the items on his desk, letting Daichi go back to what he was doing before he spoke up.

~~

Kuroo too is not doing so hot. Kenma had left with Akaashi a few minutes ago but he still sits in that empty room, head cradled in his hands as he tries to process everything.

Now that he’s able to sit down and grasp at it all, he doesn’t know what to do. He hadn’t known Bokuto for a little while but they were close – as close as Akaashi let them be. They texted a lot; mostly funny animal pictures and shitty puns that they would snicker over like teenagers. It was a fun, drama-free friendship.

Kuroo wasn’t even upset that he lost a friend that day. No, he’d lost friends and comrades before and he was sure it would happen again.

Kuroo was upset because in all his years of being close with Akaashi, he had never _ever_ seen him respond like that. Sure, he’d seen him cry before but it was never like this. Even with his last relationship where he was so concerned about ruining a marriage (which he _did_ but that’s not the point) he was never like this. His feelings for Bokuto are real. Kuroo could see that Akaashi felt as if this was the relationship that was finally for him. Bokuto was _the one_. It was subtle but whenever Akaashi would speak about him his eyes always shined brighter and his smile was just a bit wider.

Kuroo knows now that this isn’t going to simply be picking up the pieces and taping it back together. This is something more serious. Glue might not even fix this one.

Pieces were lost and they’d probably never be recovered. And if they are then it won’t be for some time. This shattered thing can’t be put back together so easily.

Eventually Kuroo is able to lift himself from the floor. His head hurts from crying because even though he wasn’t sad about losing a friend, he was. He had also lost a partner in the business. Lev was not . Even if he didn’t want to admit it, Lev was good at what he does. To have one friend become a murderer over night and the other murdered by that friend  right before your eyes is, in all honesty, traumatizing.

Kuroo walks to the agents’ office and opens the door. The response is immediate, all seven officers in there turning to look at him. Akaashi is obviously not in there but neither is Daichi, most likely tending to Suga, or Yaku, who is mourning over the loss of his partner and lover. It was a tough day for them. Only Asahi, Konoha and Sarukui remain.

Questions begin to be thrown at him: _Where’s Akaashi? Is Akaashi okay? Did he know? What happens now? Is the case over? Why did he do it?_

Kuroo waves his hands to get them to quiet down and they do. Being the sergeant comes with its perks.

“Akaashi is… most likely not going to be here for a while.” Kuroo begins and he sees the anxious faces of the agents, begging for answers, “No, he had no idea. I don’t know if you guys saw but he completely broke down and that’s not the response of somebody who knew their boyfriend is a ruthless killer. Of course we’re going to formally question him at a later time but right now he’s too fragile and the wound is too fresh.”

Kuroo combs his fingers through his nest of hair. “As for the case being over, Sugawara is currently talking to Bokuto, getting the answers we need. I’m sure we’ll be speaking Daishou again soon to confirm that he is the mastermind behind all this. But we’re going to have to search through his apartment for evidence so I’m going to put in a warrant request so we can legally search his apartment.

“Right now I think it would be best if we tried not to overwork ourselves. We’ve worked our asses off up until this point and it finally paid off. I’m not saying to slack off, and definitely don’t become like Tsukki in Analytics, but don’t break a sweat if you can’t find something right away.

“I’d like to say that we should all get drinks tonight to celebrate the almost-conclusion of this case but I don’t think it would be appropriate due to the circumstances. If you all want to go get drinks that’s fine with me but I won’t be joining you.” Kuroo exhales and tilts his head back, looking towards the ceiling.

“What about you, Kuroo?” Asahi asks and Kuroo lolls his head to look at him. “How are you holding up?”

“Better than Akaashi but definitely not good.” Kuroo huffs in laughter and shakes his head, “It hurts, it definitely hurts but… life fucking sucks and it throws you for a loop sometimes. But we just have to move on.” He claps his hands together and nods. “Stay on task guys. I’ll let you know when the warrant comes in.”

Kuroo salutes and leaves the office, all moods turned solemn.

The warrant comes a few days later, the judge granting it immediately. Kuroo brings Konoha and Sarukui with him to Bokuto’s apartment, leaving Daichi and Asahi to piece things together back at the office. There’s a spare key hidden on the ledge on the door frame and they enter without having to break anything.

They stop dead in their tracks with what they see.

There are owls _everywhere_. There is owl pictures framed and hung on the walls, owl figurines spread out on to every surface that they can see, there are owl pillows and blankets. It’s owl madness. Bokuto was not kidding when he said he loved owls. There are also framed photos of mutilated men and women hanging on the walls. Kuroo recognizes them as some of the victims, seeing the small bodies of some of the children that fell victim to Bokuto’s brutal, thoughtless killings.

“This is…” Sarukui begins, truly at a loss for words for the first time in his life. He looks around the room with wide eyes of wonder.

“Frightening. This is terrifying.” Konoha finishes for him and slides on latex gloves, gingerly picking up one of the couch pillows, “How old is this guy? Twenty-nine? You’d think this apartment belonged to a sixth grader.”

“Or a killer who turns his victims in to owls.” Kuroo grunts. The trio begins to pick apart the apartment, searching for any solid evidence. Konoha finds it in the bullets that Bokuto saved from every murder. They’re all in three-dimensional frames and are dated at the bottom. He grimaces when he finds them, stacking them on top of each other. As if the framed photos on the walls weren’t enough, Kuroo finds evidence in the newspaper clippings about the Owl, all stuffed in to a photo album under the bed. It’s packed with commentary on the sides and Kuroo does not have the patience to read through it. Sarukui finds the bloody sweatshirts, stained through one too many times to come out in the wash. They already have the gun back in custody, tucked neatly away into an evidence bag. But this solidifies everything, even though they’re already 100% positive that Bokuto is the right guy.

With shudders still traveling down their spines, they exit the apartment and shut it tight behind them, as to not expose what they’ve seen to the world.


	14. Real or Not Real?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an epilogue so it's shorter than the rest! This was also not the original ending... ;)

Akaashi wakes in a cold sweat, sitting upright and groping the sheets beside him. They are empty but he could hear water running in the bathroom and he gets up, tripping on the sheets as he went but slowly collecting himself. He stumbles into the bathroom to see Bokuto shaving his facial hair at the sink, washing his razor off under the stream of water. He meets Akaashi’s eyes in the mirror and grins, “Hey ‘Kaashi. How’d you sleep?”

Akaashi furrows his eyebrows and rests his hand on the door frame, looking at the ground. It appears as if the tiles are moving and he feels a little dizzy. What was going on?

“What’s wrong?” Bokuto asks, suddenly in front of him, the shaving cream washed away. There are droplets of water still on Bokuto’s face from washing away the substance.

“You’re… you’re here. How?” Akaashi asks slowly, backing away.

Bokuto raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press further, “What do you mean how? I live here… with you. Together.” He motions all around him and then pouts, “Are you not feeling okay?” He presses a cool hand to Akaashi’s forehead and Akaashi flinches under his touch. “You don’t feel warm.”

“You…” Akaashi shoves his arm away, “You killed twenty-nine people. You’re supposed to be in _jail_. Why are you here, in my apartment, shaving your face?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Bokuto holds his hands up in defense, “I haven’t killed anybody. Did you have a bad dream or something? I think the Owl case is getting to your head Keiji.”

Akaashi presses a hand to his forehead. A dream? No. It had felt too real to be a dream. He could feel it in himself that these things had actually happened, he _experienced_ them. The raw emotion he felt when Bokuto was revealed to be the Owl was too real to him for it to be some concoction of his brain while he was asleep. Everything he experienced in the case was too real for it to be just a dream.

“Is… Is Terushima dead? Is _Lev_ dead?” Akaashi leans against the bathroom doorway for support. He is starting to over think everything, what’s real and what isn’t and he doesn’t know what to do. His mind is swimming and twisting and going in every possible direction. What was going on? Where was he?

“Terushima died months ago and Lev has been dead for a few weeks now, along with Kuroo and Yaku. We went to their funerals remember? Akaashi, why don’t you sit?” Bokuto suggests, gently taking him by the elbow and steering him into their – _their –_ bedroom. He sits Akaashi on the edge of the bed and he’s staring wide at the hardwood floor, not seeing anything as Bokuto crouches in front of him, “It was just a bad dream probably brought on by the stress of the case. Why don’t you stay home from work today?”

Akaashi shakes his head, “N-No. I need… I need to go to work. I need to figure this out. No, wait, we already figured it out. It’s you.” Akaashi looks at him with tears in his eyes. “How could you do this?!”

“Akaashi.” Bokuto says gently, taking his hands. “I’m not a murderer. How would it be possible when I sleep next to you every night? We live together. I can’t hide any murder weapons. I can’t do anything.”

“N-No.” Akaashi rips his hands from Bokuto’s and stands, stumbling to the closet. He sheds his pajamas and slowly pulls on one of his suits. His hands tremble violently as he buttons them up. He does it wrong at first and has to unbutton them to rebutton it correctly. He’s terrified because everything happened, the dream, or whatever it was, was real so how, _how_ is Bokuto standing behind him? How is he here when there is so much evidence against him? Where did he go wrong? Where did the line between reality and fiction blur?

There’s a click behind him and then something cold and hard his pressing to the back of his head. Akaashi freezes, hands falling to his side and gray eyes widening, “B-Bokuto-san.”

“I was so stupid” Bokuto laughs coldly, “thinking I could drug you and have you forget everything you figured out. But it seems you figured things out and even came up with some of your own bullshit along the way huh? I don’t know how you figured it out in the first place, I never gave myself away, was nothing but nice to you. I knew if I let Kuroo and the others go they would arrest me but we can’t have that can we?” Bokuto moves the gun so it’s pressed to Akaashi’s temple.

A tear slips from the corner of Akaashi’s eye, “W-What’s real?”

Bokuto chuckles again menacingly, “Kuroo’s dead. So are Yaku, Lev, Terushima, and a bunch of officers. I killed them all and you guys couldn’t stop me. You still can’t stop me. And I’m going to keep killing you off, one by one until there’s nobody left.” He leans forward to whisper in his ear, “Who should I kill next? Maybe Suga? Maybe I’ll kill him while Sawamura watches? Romantic right?”

Akaashi holds his breath, “Are you going to kill me?”

“Oh no, baby.” Bokuto slides his fingers into Akaashi’s hair and pulls his head back, brushing their lips together in a light kiss. Akaashi throws up a little in his mouth. “I’m going to save you for last, right after I gouge Kenma’s pretty cat eyes out. Then you’ll be completely alone.”

“You’re disgusting.” More tears fell from Akaashi’s eyes and he spoke through clenched teeth.

Bokuto laughs, tipping his head back to do so, “Maybe I am. But you know what?” He kisses the shell of his ear, “You’ll never catch me.”

Akaashi opens his mouth to retort but then there’s something hard hitting the back of his head and the world goes black with a thud to the ground.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi once again wakes with a start. His fingers come up to fist the sheets of the bed and he curls in on himself, breathing rapidly and letting out a muffled scream. A hand touches his shoulder and he looks through hazy eyes into the worried face of Kenma. He reaches out to him and Kenma takes his quivering hand into his, holding it tightly.

“Are you okay?” Kenma asks softly. His voice is muted. Akaashi can barely hear him, as if there’s a weight on his head that is blocking out any sound. “The nurses said they found you collapsed on the floor crying. A panic attack maybe they said.”

“W-What?” Akaashi gasps out.

“They said you had a panic attack. What were you thinking about?” Kenma says again, helping him sit up. Kenma pulls the covers over Akaashi’s legs to make sure he’s not cold.

“W-Where’s Bokuto-san?” Akaashi responds quickly.

“Bokuto?” Kenma raises an eyebrow.

“He… He was in my apartment.” He grips Kenma’s hand tightly, desperately. “He said that Kuroo-san is d-dead and that he’s going to kill all of this. He’s g-going to start with Sugawara-san, we need to protect them.”

Kenma looks at him sympathetically and pats the top of his hand, “Keiji… Bokuto has been in prison for almost a year now. He’s not going to get out and kill us. Tetsurou is perfectly fine.”

Akaashi shakes his head desperately, tears pooling in his eyes, “N-No we have… we have to get out of here, he’s _coming_ for us Kenma.”

Kenma nods, “I understand but Keiji, do you know where you are right now?”

Akaashi takes a deep breath and hesitantly looks around. He vaguely recognizes the room. It’s a dim blue color with no windows. There’s an overhead light that isn’t bright at all and a picture on the wall across from him of a waterfall. It’s quite pretty. Akaashi can remember staring at that picture for hours, thinking, crying, grasping at things of the past. “I…” He tries to recall the name of where he is right now but he doesn’t know. He knows he was in his apartment yesterday and that Bokuto was there with him with a gun pressed to the back of his head and his temple.

“Keiji.” Kenma slowly places a hand on his cheek and turns his head toward his, gray eyes settling on maple ones. Both swim with tears for two different reasons. “Keiji, you’ve been in the psych ward of the hospital in Tokyo for about eight months now. You haven’t been to your apartment in over a year, since Bokuto-san was caught that night. You stayed with me and Tetsurou for a while remember?” He rubs a thumb across Akaashi’s cheek, swiping away tears that start flowing down his cheeks.

“Th-Then why am I here?” Akaashi breaths out, barely above a whisper.

Kenma glances at the doorway where Kuroo appears, holding a couple of water bottles. His eyes widen when he sees Akaashi is awake and walks around to sit in the chair next to Kenma’s. Kenma doesn’t move his hands from Akaashi’s face, even when Akaashi directs his attention at Kuroo with big eyes.

“Y-You’re alive.” Akaashi chokes out.

Kuroo glances at Kenma who just nods slightly and Kuroo smiles a pained smile, “Yeah. You can’t get rid of me that easily, Keiji.”

“B-Bokuto-san told me he killed you, and Yaku-san and Haiba-kun. And he’s going to kill Sugawara-san and Sawamura-san and….” Akaashi whispers voice trailing off, breathing starting to pick up. Kenma moves his hand to his arm and rubs it soothingly.

“Hey, it’s okay, Yaku and Kuroo are okay.” Kenma assures quietly.

“A-And Haiba-kun?” Akaashi questions hopefully.

Kuroo looks down and takes Akaashi’s hand, “He died when we caught Bokuto about a year and a half ago. Do you not remember?”

Akaashi furrows his eyebrows and closes his eyes. There are too many memories, too many concepts zooming about in his mind. What’s real? What’s not? His heart rate accelerates as he remembers the interaction with Bokuto. “H-He was in my apartment, Kuroo-san. He was there, he tried to kill me.”

Kuroo squeezes his hand, “Keiji, Bokuto’s been locked away for a long time.”

Kenma glances at him, “I tried to explain it to him. He doesn’t know why he’s here, Kuroo.”

They’ve been through this before, countless times. Akaashi had been fine the few months after the case was finally closed. He ended up resigning, not wanting to go back to the hostile work environment, Yaku never completely forgiving Akaashi for something that was not his fault at all. After that, Akaashi’s mental state began to deteriorate and he began to see hallucinations of Bokuto everywhere. Eventually it got so bad that he was not able to determine what was real or what was a hallucination. He was a danger to himself and Kenma and Kuroo saw no other option than to get him professional helping via the psychiatric ward in the hospital. They were his primary caretakers after the Bokuto fiasco, their relationship growing unspoken into something more than friendship.

Kenma remembers the day that he decided that Akaashi needed professional help. He didn’t like to leave Akaashi alone but sometimes they did not have a choice. And when they got back they found him curled on the floor, arms scratched raw because he could feel Bokuto’s hands on his skin still. His hair was damp, indicating that he had taken a shower recently. Kuroo had immediately rushed to him but he was unresponsive, repeating Bokuto’s name like a mantra. Kenma had been stock still and didn’t know what to do, never seeing it that bad before. It was only a little later that he realized that it was supposed to be Akaashi and Bokuto’s anniversary for some number of months.

Kenma knew that he and Kuroo could not do anymore to help Akaashi and they brought him to the hospital the next morning, out of options. And he has been there ever since.

Kuroo wills Akaashi to calm his labored breathing and gets up, sitting against the pillows with Akaashi. Akaashi sniffs and leans against him, eyes glazed over and unseeing. “Can you hear me Keiji?” Akaashi nods. “The Bokuto you saw wasn’t real. He’s not here. He wasn’t in your apartment and neither were you. Bokuto is locked up and away very far from here for the rest of his life. He isn’t going to get to you. You’re safe with us and within these walls. Do you understand? None of what you saw yesterday was real.”

More tears spill from Akaashi’s mind as Kuroo’s words help clear his mind, face in his hands. Kenma has to look away, not wanting to see his friend cry, still not used to it, even after all these years of knowing him. In all honesty he has never seen cry as much as he has been within the recent year. It is a heartbreaking sight. Akaashi lets out a sob and Kuroo squeezes his shoulder affectionately, burying his face in Akaashi’s hair. “I’m sorry I’m like this.” Akaashi cries softly.

“It’s not your fault.” Kenma speaks up and places a lithe hand on Akaashi’s knee through the sheets. Akaashi closes his eyes and revels in the warmth and comfort of Kenma’s hand and Kuroo’s body, knowing full well that this would all fade into the back of his memory, Bokuto at the forefront, haunting him, taunting him, and everything in between. He would never be able to escape and it would take years for his mental state to finally get back to some semblance of what could be considered normal.

But for now, Akaashi lays in a hospital bed on the ninth floor in room twenty, spending his days staring at the wall blindly for hours, going to therapy in between, skipping meals, and seeing Bokuto, remembering everything he saw in the case, trying to piece himself back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really emotional right now about ending this. Thank you to everybody who read, commented, gave kudos, etc etc all your words made this worth while and I'm glad I could make you guys feel the things you felt while reading this. 300+ kudos wow that's just... incredible. I hope you guys enjoy the ending and I just cannot thank you all enough for everything you've all said.  
> If you wanted a happy ending, I'm so sorry...  
> I'm planning on writing more fics like this one so you should follow me on [Tumblr](http://aizawa-shoutas.tumblr.com/) ;)
> 
> Again, thank you all, it's been a wild ride~~


	15. Alternate Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The OG ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the original ending! Considered just making it a new story entirely but then wanted people to read this story first so the story wasn't spoiled. So here we are. Thank you for all your reactions to the actual ending (ch 14) I love you all!!!!  
> [Tumblr](http://novocaine-sea.tumblr.com/)

They pull in to the parking lot and park the car, shutting off the engine.

“You didn’t have to come with me you know,” Akaashi repeats, looking at the driver. He had repeated this the whole car ride and he still felt guilty.

“I wasn’t going to make you go by yourself.” Kuroo states, grinning from the driver’s seat. He looks over Akaashi lazily, “I’m gonna be out here whenever you’re done alright? There’s no way I would just drop you off.”

Akaashi nods and looks out the windshield towards the building before down at his lap, “Thank you.”

He feels Kuroo’s fingers lift his chin up and lips pressing to the corner of his mouth. “It’ll be fine.”

Akaashi nods again and gives him a weak smile before exiting the car. He shuts the door and looks at the prison, taking in a deep breath before walking inside.

It has been two years since the Owl was caught and revealed to be Bokuto. It took a year and a half for Akaashi to finally recover, although there are still some days where it is all too much. He wonders how he could have been so blinded to not see the signs; how he was naïve to believe Bokuto when he said he hadn’t spoken to Daishou in years.

Looking back on it now, knowing Daishou and having his sister be murdered were some of the most obvious signs.

Akaashi hasn’t seen Bokuto since the day he punched him in the face. He had no desire to ever see him again, too broken by what they could have had to think of it. But he needs closure.

Akaashi never stepped foot in to his apartment again. He came close; Kenma had taken him to break his contract and collect his things but he stood outside his door trembling so hard he couldn’t even get the key in to the lock. Akaashi stood outside while Kenma got his things for him.

Akaashi moved in with Kuroo and Kenma sometime after. It was supposed to be a temporary thing. He would stay with them until he could get back on his feet.

But eventually he got used to the warmth of Kuroo’s chest and the warmth of Kenma curled up against his back and he just… stayed. And their friendship grew in to something so much more and they really are his support. They’re there to pick him up on his bad days and remind him that it’s all over. The nightmare is done.

He is thankful for them in more ways than one.

The case itself was finally closed and concluded two months later, when they compiled all their data and fit everything together. Bokuto was sentenced to life in prison and Daishou had the same fate. They ended up at the same prison, the one where Akaashi stands now.

Akaashi walks in and is immediately brought through a metal detector in order to get to the front desk. He hadn’t expected much less to be honest but it was still surprising. He walks to the desk and clears his throat, “Um, hello. I’m here to visit Bokuto Koutarou.”

The woman blinks up at him before finding her voice, “May I see some ID please?” Akaashi nods and pulls his wallet out, handing his license to her. She looks at it then up at him then pulls something up on her computer. She hands him the ID back.

“I had to check if you were on his visitor’s list,” She explains, handing him a pass. “You are his first visitor ever. A guard will bring you to the visitor’s room. I’m going to need you leave your keys here. It’s a precaution to prevent prisoners from swiping them off visitors.” She placed a plastic box on the desk and he places the keys inside.

“Thank you.” He mumbles as a door is opened and a guard ushers him inside. He shoves his hands in to his pockets, feeling a little uncomfortable. He is directed to a room filled with tables and chairs, some occupied with inmates and their families and some empty.

Akaashi takes a seat in a chair and folds his hands on the table, jiggling his leg anxiously. He doesn’t even know why he decided to come here to talk to Bokuto. He didn’t really want to, but he was becoming more and more agitated lately as Bokuto’s birthday approached. Kenma had suggested he just go talk to him for some kind of closure and it is really hard to say no to Kenma.

Akaashi looks over when the door opens again and he is taken aback. Bokuto looks mostly the same, hair down and that coy smirk on his face. When his eyes lock on Akaashi’s his shoulder quake with laughter and he saunters over, sitting heavily in the chair across from him.

Bokuto chuckles, “You know, this is quite shocking.”

Akaashi taps his fingers on the table, “You put me on your visitor’s list.”

“Yeah but my mother is also on that list and she still hasn’t shown up,” Bokuto states and leans back, hands behind his head. “So what brings you here? I’m sure you didn’t come to have a friendly chat.”

Akaashi bites his lip, silent. Why is he here again? Seeing Bokuto makes him feel uneasy and a little nauseous, recalling all that was said in that bare room two years ago. He had finally rid himself of the feeling of Bokuto’s hands on his body but Bokuto’s molten gaze made all of it surface. His skin crawls and he wants to run.

But he is here for closure and closure he will get.

“You… hurt me very badly,” Akaashi says soft and slow, eyes fixed on the table. He takes a deep breath and lifts steel gray ones to blazing golden ones. His breath hitches at the intensity in those eyes and wills himself to continue, “I would spend nights thinking of what you did, trying to imagine you killing those people. It… hurt to know that you played us so well. And you played me. I’ve never felt as strong for anybody as I felt for you, Bokuto-san.”

“It warms my heart to know that you’ve been thinking about me,” Bokuto places his hand over his heart and pats it, “If you’re looking for me to apologize though, I’m not going to.”

“I didn’t expect you to.” Akaashi says. A spark of courage surges through him, allowing his voice to steady. “I was never able to understand why you did it. Your excuse seemed so… insincere, like you were trying to convince yourself that there was a reason you did the things you did. It never made any sense to me why it took you almost a decade to find a way to satiate your yearn for power. Sugawara-san said that he said this to you, but you could have continued noncompetitive volleyball.”

Bokuto rolls his eyes, “Are you here to bear your heart to me, Keiji?”

“Don’t you think I deserve as much?” Akaashi’s eyes shone with tears. He hadn’t cried in so long but seeing Bokuto in front of him so uncaring for him was almost too much.

“I gave you my everything and you seemed so genuine in everything you gave me. And then I find out you’re a serial killer and I couldn’t even stand to look at you! It really messed me up and you don’t seem to care how others around you would be affected. You willingly entered in to a relationship, with an FBI agent mind you, knowing full well you would be exposed at some point. Do you not care for people at all? Do you not feel an ounce of remorse for what you’ve done, to your victims and those who were close to you?”

“Am I supposed to?” Bokuto asks, cocking his head to the side. “Almost all of them were strangers to me. I didn’t care how they felt. They were there to help me feel what I missed not being able to play volleyball. And as for us… I was killing even before I met you. I wasn’t going to stop because you weren’t enough for me.”

Akaashi’s jaw is pulled taut and he goes to stand, “It was a mistake coming here…”

Bokuto sighs, “No, look, I’m sorry. Stay, just for a little longer.”

Akaashi glares, “Why should I? I really don’t feel like wasting my time and falling back in to the mess I was.”

Bokuto looks at him, “I never get to see anybody from outside of here. Just…” The longer he looks at him the more he can see _his_ Bokuto through the cracks of the façade he has up. “How are Tetsu and Kenma?”

Akaashi narrows his eyes, “They’re great. They’ve really helped me through everything. They’ve treated me better than you ever did or would have.”

The corner of Bokuto’s lips quirk up, “So you’re with them? Both of them?”

Akaashi pushes the chair in, deciding that he can’t and won’t stick around any longer, “Goodbye, Bokuto-san.” He walks out, leaving Bokuto sitting there in a state of shock. He obtains his keys from the receptionist and walks out of the prison, never turning back.

He climbs back in to the passenger seat, startling Kuroo.

“Are you…okay?” Kuroo asks after a moment, reaching for Akaashi’s hand. Akaashi lets him take it.

“Yup. Are we still getting lunch with Kenma?” Akaashi asks, voice tight.

Kuroo starts the car, “Yes. We should go get him. Probably. Now.” He pulls out of the parking lot, still clutching on to Akaashi’s hand. With his reaction anybody would have thought it was _him_ who had gone to talk to Bokuto, not Akaashi.

“Tetsurou, I’m alright,” Akaashi assures him. “Seeing him made me realize that I am better off without him. He’s… not who I thought he was.”

Kuroo nods and glances at him curiously, “Still, you seem pretty upset.”

Akaashi turns his head away, “I’m fine.”

There are still days when Akaashi gets upset and recalls memories he has with Bokuto. There are days when he has to suppress the urge to vomit when he looks at the desk Terushima once occupied, now occupied by his new partner Kageyama. He tries not to think about how Terushima must have felt when he looked in to the eyes of Bokuto while being slashed to death.

There are days when Akaashi doesn’t want to get out of bed because life is too stressful and he can’t stop thinking about what could’ve been.

But he has a support system; two sets of hands and two kind and patient smiles that lift him back to his feet and help him get through the day. It is warm cuddles and lingering kisses that bring him back to the present, lips so soft and rough, so unlike those from the past.

With his system, Kuroo and Kenma, Akaashi is able to walk through life with his head held high, thoughts of the man, the Owl, _Bokuto_ pushed to the back to make room for better, more positive memories.


End file.
